


Killer Combo

by Quickspinner



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Gamer AU - Freeform, Maxinette BROTP, Reverse Crush (Miraculous Ladybug), Rivalry, lukanette endgame, past one-sided adrienette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 60,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24011302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner
Summary: Max and Marinette have been playing in the Ultimate Mecha Strike III professional leagues for a few years but they're finally making the jump to the Master League in hopes of winning a cash prize that will let them make their dreams a reality. Team Lucky Charm is on their way, but Marinette faces a challenge in the individual league--she can't seem to beat former champion Viperion.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Max Kanté
Comments: 238
Kudos: 432





	1. The First Match

**Author's Note:**

> When I took prompt suggestions on tumblr for my follower milestone event, one of the prompts was "reverse crush" and another was "Luka beats Marinette at video games and she gets all gooey over him" (not the exact words). Neither option got picked in the voting but somewhere along the line they melded together in my brain and I thought I'd give it a shot.
> 
> It was supposed to be another chapter for I'll Never Not Know You and then suddenly I was 15k words in and like...this is not a one shot anymore. So I bring it to you as a new chapter story instead. I hope you'll enjoy!

“It’s your third Master league event,” Max observed with some amusement as he watched Marinette bounce on her toes in front of the door about to open for her. “Your win record is above 94% from the last two. How are you still nervous?” 

“I’m not nervous,” Marinette insisted. “Not really. Just ready to get started!” She added, almost to herself, “I didn’t expect to play him so soon. I mean, I didn’t even know he was back in the league this year.” 

“That is a little surprising,” Max agreed, adjusting his glasses as he looked down at Marinette’s match list in his hand. “We could have prepared more if we had known sooner that he was returning. His rank is only marginally higher than yours at the moment, however. Numerically, your third match will be of much more importance. There’s a much bigger disparity between your ranks which will mean a bigger jump in rank for you if you win.” 

“If I win?” Marinette teased, nudging him. “So much faith, Max.” She slipped her red-and-black hoodie off of her shoulders, and then pulled it off entirely, deciding it was too warm to wear in the closed match space. Ultimate Mech Strike III had been gaining steadily in popularity, and the pro leagues were getting more and more of an audience. With that came an increase in both exposure and cash prizes—and a corresponding increase in cheating. The Master and Grandmaster leagues now held their match events in person at local exhibit halls and convention centers, with players isolated from interference in “pyrapods” that held standardized headsets, controllers, and screens—but they could be a bit stuffy. Matches were streamed from the game center live on the website, and the players who brought in the most traffic were targeted for sponsorships and interviews.

“I can calculate the odds if you—” Max began, but the door to her pyrapod slid open, indicating it was time for the match to begin. Marinette shared a quick fistbump with Max, and then tossed him her hoodie and bounced inside without hesitation. 

She donned the provided headset (which still smelled of cleaner, but she was more inclined to be thankful than annoyed) and picking up the controller. The screen in front of her lit up with the view that would be livestreamed. 

Marinette set her feet and pressed the button on the counter to indicate she was ready. She took a deep breath and waited for her opponent, rolling up and down on her toes as she tried to settle the nerves she’d told Max she didn’t have. 

The voice channel crackled to life in her ear as Viperion put his headset on in his own pod. 

“Ladybug vs. Viperion,” the dispassionate electronic voice announced, “Prepare for countdown to match start.”

“Ladybug, huh?” Viperion said, and Marinette blinked at the quiet, smooth voice. “Nice to meet you. I heard some new blood was tearing up the ladder. I’m excited to take you on.” 

“Likewise,” Marinette told him, eyebrows raising slightly. “I didn’t expect to go up against a _former_ champion so soon.” She’d been shocked when she saw his name on the list of computer-generated matchups she’d gotten at registration. He should have been much too high up on the ladder to get matched up against her. This was only her third match event in the Master League. She’d only moved up this month—and now she had a month to get out of the bottom 5% before she’d be dropped down to the lower leagues again. 

So, champion or not, Viperion was going down.

“I had other commitments last year,” he replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “So I’m in with the newbies this year. Don’t worry, I’ll be back up the ladder and out of your hair soon enough.” 

Marinette scoffed but the ten second match countdown popped up before she could respond. 

“Good luck, Ladybug,” Viperion said.

“Same to you, Viperion,” Marinette replied, eyes fixed on the big red numbers ticking down until the word FIGHT flashed once and the game began.

Marinette was used to trash talk, was even good at it. She’d come to enjoy trading quips and good-natured insults, at least until she started winning. Then her opponents tended to either get quiet or get nasty.

Viperion, by contrast, was nearly silent from the beginning. Every once in a while she thought she heard...humming? over her headset, but she wasn’t sure. 

“Oh, nice,” he breathed finally, when she landed a major combo on him. “Oh, hell, here we go, it’s on now—” But it was almost like he was talking to himself rather than trying to trash talk her. 

“You wanted it, I brought it,” she muttered back through the headset. 

“Show me what you got, Ladybug,” he chuckled. “I can take it.”

Marinette’s eyebrows rose slightly at that. _Cocky_ , she thought, grinning to herself at the thought of taking him down, former champion or no.

She wasn’t smiling for long. Viperion wasn’t cocky, he was right. He _could_ take it. His snake-based mech specialized in status effects, and he used his haste and slow abilities masterfully to compensate for his relatively weak armor. He hadn’t neglected his damage stats either; his venom strike didn’t pack a lot of punch up front but the damage dealt over time added up. She’d never seen anyone use this combination of abilities so effectively without a partner to tank for them. Marinette’s lips got tighter and tighter as her health bar turned blue and then red. She was adapting, finding his weak spots, but not fast enough. She had him in the red but—Marinette smashed one last combo in desperation but she could see even as she did it that Viperion had the edge, and she sighed in frustration and let her controller fall on the counter in front of her as GAME OVER flashed in red letters on her screen, followed by the image of Viperion’s mech and the word WINNER over and over. 

“Whew.” The breath Viperion blew out fuzzed over her microphone. “Nice try, Ladybug. Good game.”

Well, at least he was a gracious winner, she thought grumpily. “You too, Viperion,” she said, as sincerely as she could manage, and pulled her headset off with a sigh.

Max was waiting for her outside the pod with his phone in his hand, where he’d no doubt been watching the livestream of the match, and a sympathetic look on his face—at least, she thought he was giving her a sympathetic look from behind his dark glasses. “Too many variables with an unexpected opponent,” he reassured her. “And Viperion _is_ the former champion. We’ll study the match and improve your odds for next time.” 

Marinette mustered a smile and threw her arm around his neck, though nowadays she practically had to stand on tiptoe to do it. “Thanks Max.” He grinned, adjusting his glasses in the way he always did when he was pleased he’d said the right thing. “Well, Ladybug may be down but she’s not out, and Team Lucky Charm is still on top. I’ll win the rest of my matches and then we’ll tear up the two-on-two, right Pegasus?” 

“Odds of victory 94.3%, Ladybug,” Max grinned, and she pulled her arm back to bump fists with him. Then she slapped him on the back, right on the big silver horseshoe on the back of his black hoodie. The skinny boy staggered, but chuckled, and handed Marinette back her own hoodie, red with black on the shoulders and black spots traveling up her forearms from the black cuffs, with a large five-spotted ladybug emblem on the back. She slipped it back on over her tank top and checked her reflection in the mirrored pillar framing the pod. The red mask dusted across her eyes with makeup, accented by black eyeliner dots, was still mostly intact. She gave her pigtails a quick tug each to tighten them and grabbed her black lipstick out of her pocket, reapplying quickly.

“All right,” she said, turning to find Max looking at his own reflection over her shoulder and adjusting the small silver horseshoe pendant hanging at his throat. She was still a little bitter that he was suddenly taller than her, but he just grinned when he caught her pouting at him. He’d been the small and skinny one for so long that he was totally fine with being a beanpole now. “Two more matches to go, and then we’re up.” She softened slightly. “You know you don’t have to wait for me. It’d be okay if you’d rather just wait and show up for the team matches. Or if you want to go check out the competition while I play.”

Max just smiled and shook his head. “I can’t abandon my teammate to her inevitable nerves in her hour of need.” 

Marinette scrunched up her face. “I’m not _that_ bad.” 

Max just chuckled. “You have fifteen minutes before your next match,” he reminded her. “Given your usual patterns I suggest you use them for a bathroom break.”

Marinette groaned. “That’s creepy, Max,” she muttered. But she also followed his advice, the match with Viperion still on her mind. He was more adaptable than she expected, she reflected as she pouted her black-painted lips in thought. She was still frowning when she returned from the bathroom, but Max gave her an awkward punch in the arm, bringing her back to the present and she smiled at him again. Max was right, she’d beat Viperion next time, and losing to him just made beating her next opponents that much more important.

The rest of the day went much better. Marinette swept her the rest of her matches, including the all-important third one. The two-on-two competition was likewise satisfying. Ladybug and Pegasus had been playing together for a long time and they were a well-coordinated team. Marinette’s power and versatility coupled with Max’s diligent data gathering and analysis made them pretty unstoppable. They went undefeated and exited their pyrapods whooping and cheering, buzzed on their own success. 

“Yes!” Marinette exclaimed, hugging Max. “We’re on the road, Max! One step closer to making _Markov Robotics_ and _Miraculous Designs_ a reality!”

“We still have a considerable distance to go before that happens,” Max cautioned, whipping out his calculator. Marinette put a hand gently over it.

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” she quoted cheerfully. “Let’s just enjoy the moment, Max.”

“Yes, of course,” Max smiled, putting away his calculator. “You are correct, Marinette. I did have concerns as to whether we would be able to succeed at this level after lingering at the top of the Diamond League so long. I won’t be able to accurately calculate our odds of success for a few more events, but the outcomes so far have been encouraging.”

“That’s the spirit!” Marinette cheered. Her step hesitated lightly. “Do you want to go to the post-match social?”

Max winced, looking as reluctant as she felt. “We probably should,” he said, shoulders slumping slightly. “We are new to this league, after all. It won’t help us to make a poor impression.” 

“Or none,” Marinette sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” 

“Perhaps a community of more serious gamers will have a more mature attitude,” Max suggested hopefully. “The time commitments and skill level required at this level are not insignificant.”

Marinette smiled. “You’re right, Max. Way to look on the bright side! Come on, let’s make some new friends.” 

Marinette took a deep breath as they entered the main hall, where quite a few people were milling around. 

Of course, she noticed the clothes first. There was a fair amount of UMS gear on display—not surprising. Some people wore hats or pins or other small tokens referencing their mechas, but nobody, she noted with satisfaction, had anything nearly as cool or as customized, nor anything approaching a complete look, as she and Max did. 

“Ladybug?”

Marinette turned and looked up in slight surprise. And then up a little further. The boy—man? young man—standing behind her was several inches taller than Max, and surprisingly well-built and tanned for a gamer. He was...kinda hot, actually, in a lean, slightly lanky sort of way, which made Marinette tense a little, but his smile was friendly and his blue eyes were...wow.

“I thought that must be you,” he smiled, indicating her clothes with a slight gesture. “Nice look.” 

“Marinette designed and created our attire herself,” Max put in proudly as Marinette tried to remember how to make words.

“Oh, nice,” the stranger said with appreciation, and Marinette blinked. 

“Viperion?” she asked. The voice was unmistakable. 

“In the flesh. My name’s Luka. Nice to meet you,” Viperion said, his smile widening as he offered his hand. “Good game. _Great_ game, actually, you were amazing. You really had me sweating.” 

“Thanks,” Marinette replied, her smile tight, but Max nudged her and she managed something a little more sincere as she shook Luka’s hand, a little surprised to find it rough and calloused. Clearly gaming wasn’t his only pastime. (Not like that was special, it wasn’t hers either, and her fingertips were calloused too.) “I’m Marinette. Next time it’ll be better.”

“No doubt,” Luka said warmly, and his voice, smooth and deep and even more appealing without the tinny sound of the headsets, also gave the impression of gentleness even as he squeezed her hand lightly before letting go. “I’m looking forward to it. I hope we can play again sometime, Marinette, I had a lot of fun.” 

Marinette’s smile turned a little more genuine in spite of how much she hated to lose. It _had_ been a good match. “I did too, actually. You played a really good game, Luka. Oh, this is my two-on-two partner, Max—Pegasus.” 

Luka smiled at Max, leaning in to shake hands with him as well. “Nice to meet you.”

He really was good looking, Marinette grudgingly admitted. Luka’s hair was black and cut short on the sides, but longer on top, hanging nearly into his eyes, and dyed the same turquoise as his mech. He had a jaw that could cut glass and a sharp chin and nose, but the overall impression was softened by an easy, dimpled grin, worn, comfortably tattered clothes (including the most dire hoodie Marinette had ever seen over a UMS shirt that must have been at least five years old), and relaxed attitude.

“I saw your matches in the co-op tournament,” Luka was saying as he pulled back from the handshake. “Congrats on your wins, you guys really destroyed everyone there.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t there, were you,” Marinette challenged, grin widening as she folded her arms and cocked a hip. 

“Nah, I don’t usually play the two-on-two,” Luka laughed, and it was a pleasant laugh, genuine and not mocking. “The individual tournament’s more than enough challenge for me most days. I love video games, but they’re not all there is to life, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Marinette nodded slowly, uncomfortable with the way her stomach suddenly felt like jelly. “That’s true—” She jolted suddenly as somebody crashed into her from behind. Luka put his hands out quickly, catching her shoulders.

“Hey, sorry—oh, it’s the bug,” a voice said behind her, followed by a beleaguered sigh. Marinette’s expression twisted slightly before she put on her game face and turned around to face the man who’d run into her. He had a goatee and wore a jacket with a ruff around the neck like a lion’s mane. “Thought I left you behind.”

“What a surprise,” Marinette said, her voice dripping with sweetness as she turned away from him slightly to make sure Max was okay where he’d been knocked into the rail. Max gave her a slight nod as he straightened his glasses and got his footing, waving away Luka’s offered hand. “I thought the same about you,” she continued, turning her back to Leo with her fakest smile. 

“Ladybug, Ladybug, fly away home,” he singsonged, and then sneered. “Before you get squashed.” 

Marinette’s eyes narrowed, but she merely inspected her fingernails. “Not by you, apparently, considering how today’s match went.” 

He went red in the face. “Listen, little bug—” 

“Woah, rude much?” Luka said, folding his arms. “Come on, man, show some respect, we’re all competitors here.” 

“And you are?” 

“Luka,” he replied, a slight edge in his voice. “Viperion.” 

“Oh, hey, Viperion. I’m Leo.” He held out his hand and leaned toward Luka, forcing Marinette to take a step back. She felt Max put a hand on her shoulder and squeeze, and tossed him a smile to show she was okay. “Nice to meet you, I didn’t know you were back this year. I watched you in the final a couple years ago, it was sick.”

Luka met his hand slowly and shook it. “Thanks,” he said, glancing at Marinette. “But we were talking, so if you don’t mind—” 

“Oh, yeah, sure, I’m sure we’ll meet up again,” Leo said, taking a step back. “I’ll see you around, Viperion.”

“Not if I see you first,” muttered Luka as the guy walked away. He glanced at Marinette and Max. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Marinette chirped, with a hollow laugh. “He’s old news, I’m used to it.” 

“That sucks,” Luka said bluntly, frowning. “You shouldn’t have to get used to that kind of crap,” he said, an edge of frustration in his voice that Marinette hadn’t heard from him even during the match. “Damnit, they were supposed to be stepping up enforcement of the sportsmanship guidelines when I left. I guess it fell through. Again,” he muttered, glancing at the bored looking official standing nearby. 

“I gotta hand it to you, Ladybug—Marinette,” he continued. “You’re tough as nails, and not just in a match.” He glanced back in the direction Leo had gone and grinned. “You kicked his ass, huh?”

Marinette grinned back. “Wiped the floor with him.” 

“Sweet.” Luka held out his hand for a fist bump and Marinette obliged. 

“It won’t matter in a month,” Max said with certainty. “I don’t even need to calculate the odds; he won’t make it out of the bottom before the cutoff.” He adjusted his glasses. “His mech is powerful but his strategy is inconsistent and short-sighted.”

Luka blinked, glancing at Marinette, who shrugged and grinned. “If Max said it, then it’s as good as fact.”

Luka chuckled. “Is that so? Should I even ask about my odds?”

“No,” Marinette said quickly, just as Max began, “Actually, without additional data my predictions are only thirty percent reliable beyond the third month—”

Luka went from chuckling to full on laughing. “You two are funny. Well hey, you’ve certainly got my respect if it matters. I’m a little surprised you’ve only just moved up to Master, you’re really good.”

Marinette made a face. “We couldn’t make the minimum match count last year. Too many school commitments. It’s easier to work around a university schedule.”

“Team Lucky Charm was the Diamond League champion for the last two years,” Max announced proudly, though Marinette blushed a touch at the open boasting. 

“Well, welcome to the big leagues,” Luka grinned. “Like I said, I hope we’ll play again, Marinette.”

“Statistically probable,” Max began, but Marinette stepped lightly on his foot and he shut his mouth. 

“Oh we will,” she promised, eyes narrowing slightly though a smile was tugging at her lips. “I’ll see you in the playoffs, if nothing else. Then again,” she smirked. “You may not find it as easy to leave me behind as you think. I’ll be on your ass all the way to the top of the ladder.”

Luka gave her a slow grin that made her insides go all wobbly again as he checked the time on his phone. “I’m looking forward to it,” he told her, giving her a quick wave as he turned to go. “Nice meeting you both. See you guys next time.” 

Marinette raised a hand automatically to wave back. He shot her a positively roguish smile before disappearing into the crowd. 

And to her horror, Marinette blushed. Hard.

Behind her, Max snickered. Marinette threw an elbow back into his gut, but he dodged and just laughed harder. 

* * *

“You’re doing well, Marinette,” Max reassured her from the small window at the top of her screen. “Your rank has been increasing after every match event. You easily got out of the bottom 5% before the drop cutoff, and Team Lucky Charm continues to climb the ladder as well. I’m not sure why you’re so focused on this.”

“Because I’m _losing_ , Max,” Marinette complained. “My win rate against Viperion _sucks_ , and you can’t deny it.” She threw herself back in her chair with a huff. “And I can’t even be mad about it. I’m mean I’m _mad_ about it, but I’m mad because he’s a great player and I deserved to lose every time.”

“It’s true that your win-loss record against him is—” Marinette shot Max a glare. “Suboptimal,” he offered, with an apologetic shrug. “However, you are improving against him every time and you did win your last match.”

“One,” Marinette groaned. “One match out of six. The stupid computer keeps matching us up.” 

“The fact remains that you have been more successful as you gain more experience playing him,” Max pointed out. Then he smirked. “And I don’t believe you are annoyed with being _matched_ with Viperion at all.” 

Marinette’s mouth drew into a pout. “Low, Max. So what if he’s cute? I still want to beat him.” 

“I’m sure you do,” Max sniggered, and Marinette’s mouth dropped open.

“Max Kanté!” she gasped, grabbing a crumpled up piece of paper from her desk and pitching it at her webcam. 

Max shrugged unrepentantly on the screen, unbothered by the projectile. “Kim has been my best friend for years. I am not as naive as people like to think.” He made a face. “Unfortunately.”

Marinette giggled. 

“Admit it, Marinette,” Max said smugly, folding his arms. “You don’t hate Viperion.”

“No,” Marinette sighed. “I almost wish I could hate him, but I don’t.” He was just so... _nice._ And fun, honestly. She couldn’t even hate _playing_ him because the more she played him, the more talkative he got, and she enjoyed his subtle trash talk and open teasing. It was...like playing with a friend. 

A friend whose unreasonably attractive ass ( _not_ that she was looking) Marinette was determined to kick. 

Marinette groaned and let her face fall onto the pile of interviews and match analyses she was going through _again._ Not that any of it had helped the first time. Or the fifth. Or the fiftieth.

“That doesn’t look good,” came a teasing voice from behind her.

“Hi Alya,” Marinette mumbled without looking up. “Don’t mind me, just wallowing my in my failures.”

“Still haven’t beaten that one guy, huh?” Alya asked with a grin, and Marinette heard her throw herself down onto the chaise. “Hi Max!”

“Hi Alya,” Max replied. 

“So what’s his name again?” Alya asked. “Viper?” 

“Viperion,” Marinette corrected. “And once. I’ve beaten him one time out of six.” 

“Is he a jerk?” Alya asked. “I know you have a lot of trouble with those guys.” 

Marinette tried to fight the smile that wanted to spread over her face, but Alya’s widening eyes proved it would be futile anyway. “He’s not a jerk. He’s...sweet, actually. And funny. He seems like a nice guy.” 

“A very attractive nice guy,” Max snickered again. 

“Ooooh,” Alya giggled, and Marinette sat up, glaring at her traitor of a partner.

“So, wait,” Alya sat backwards in Marinette’s second chair, leaning her arms on the back of it. “Let me get this straight.” She held up one hand and began to tick off her fingers. “He’s hot. He’s nice. You know he’s good with his hands—”

“Alya!”

“She’s not wrong.” Max nodded sagely. “It’s true that the speed at which he executes his combos requires a higher than average level of dexterity.”

“Max!” Marinette whirled to face him and scowled. She was _so_ going to have words with Kim.

Alya just grinned wickedly and kept going. “He knows how to change things up and keep it interesting—” 

“ _Alya!”_

“And he knows when to slow things down and when to go hard and fast—” 

“ _ALYA CÉSAIRE_!” 

Max burst out laughing and Alya raised her hands and eyebrows both. “You said it all girl, I’m just recapping!” 

“Oh my God,” Marinette groaned, putting her head in her arms on her desk. “I didn’t say any of it like _that_!”

"Nevertheless, you _did_ say it," Max pointed out, trying to smother his laughter without much success.

Marinette muffled her scream in her arms and then shot up, reaching for the computer. “Goodbye, Max. You better find a new partner because I have to go kill my best friend now.” She switched off the video call and dropped her head back into her arms.

“You liiiiiike this guy,” Alya teased. 

“Yes,” Marinette muttered, giving into the inevitable.

Alya started slightly, sitting up straight. “Wait, what?”

Marinette raised her head. “I do like him,” she whined. “I really, really like him.” 

“Does he have a girlfriend?” Alya asked, grinning.

Marinette sighed and pitched a gaming magazine at her. It fell open immediately to the well-worn interview. Marinette knew it practically by heart, but Alya raised her eyebrows and began reading aloud. 

“Viperion, real name Luka Couffaine. Twenty years old—Ooh, an older man, Marinette—” 

“Two years,” Marinette muttered, letting her face fall onto her arms. “Barely. Not a big deal.” 

Alya continued to read what Marinette already knew; other hobbies included music and motorcycles, no girlfriend _not that it mattered why did they even ask that_ —it all seemed to point to him being a laid back, relaxed kind of guy, who played because he genuinely enjoyed the game and was good at it. He was competitive enough to keep his edge but he didn’t take the competition too seriously. 

“So how much time have you actually spent _talking_ to him?” Alya asked, giving her a sharp look. 

“We talk every time I play him,” Marinette said, sitting up in her chair. “He comes to find me after every match, shakes my hand and says I played a good game, and we chat for a few minutes about whatever.” She was starting to look forward to their short conversations, to his rough hand enveloping hers and the lilt in his smooth voice when he teased her. Even if Max gave her hell afterwards because even he wasn’t so obsessed with his numbers that he couldn’t tell something was going on. Marinette might not be the stuttering, blushing mess that she had been in her younger years, but she still had trouble keeping her feelings off her face. 

“How’d he do when you beat him?” Alya asked, eyebrows raised, and Marinette turned away to straighten the knick knacks on her desk so that Alya wouldn’t see her smile.

“Just the same. He seemed just as happy as when he wins. All he said was not to get too comfortable because we’re not in the playoffs yet.” Her smile fell slightly. “Which is true,” she sighed. “If I can’t beat him in the finals it doesn’t matter how many rank matches I win. He can afford a loss or two, even to me.”

“Even to you,” Alya echoed with a scoff. “Marinette, you’re the best UMS player I’ve ever seen.”

Marinette refrained from pointing out that Alya hadn’t actually seen that many. “That doesn’t always matter,” she shrugged. “Guys don’t like getting beat by a girl. Really, our rankings are so close that losing to me doesn’t hurt him that much. He doesn’t lose anything by being nice to me.”

“But…” Alya raised her eyebrows, and Marinette blushed.

“He’s nice to everybody,” she said with a small shrug, turning to her desk and tossing another magazine Alya’s way. “He’s a popular player. Not only is he a former champion but he’s personable and he has such a unique playing style, his matches get a lot of traffic on the livestream. They interview him a lot—” 

“Probably doesn’t hurt that he’s cute,” Alya commented. “From a marketing perspective, he’s a great face to put out there to the public. Helps dispel the idea that all gamers are—” Her eyes darted towards the screen where Max had been a moment ago. “Nerds,” she finished finally with an apologetic shrug. 

Marinette rolled her eyes but conceded the point. “He talks about sportsmanship and not taking yourself too seriously in almost every interview,” she said, pointing to the magazine in Alya’s hands. She herself had it practically memorized. 

_Q. I understand you’ve been calling for the league to up the enforcement of their sportsmanship practices. There’s been discussions about implementing a fine or rank penalty for unsportsmanlike behavior._

_A. Yeah, I have, and I think that’s really important. I mean, when it comes down to it, we’re all here to play the game because we love it. Of course the money matters, but it’s not the only thing that matters. Making money off something you love is great in theory but if you let the thought of the money take all the joy out of what you’re doing, then you might as well work a desk job and let your hobbies stay hobbies. We’re not gladiators fighting to the death. We lose nothing by treating our opponents with respect, no matter whether it’s a girl or a guy, or somebody younger or older than you or with a different skin color, we’re all here because we love the game, and we ought to respect that love in other people. Bottom line, the league has guidelines in place for a reason and they should be enforced._

Marinette wasn’t sure how that made her feel. Really, he was right; the league was too lax about enforcing their sportsmanship guidelines across the board, and players like Marinette and Max suffered the most for it. A certain amount of trash talk was accepted but using abusive language or attacking a player’s sex, sexuality, or race was _supposed_ to be against the rules, but she’d seen those rules enforced only a handful of times in any of the leagues she’d played in, and without any penalty to back it up, the rules largely went ignored.

Alya’s whistle snapped her back to reality. “Girl, you’ve got it bad. I haven’t seen you this deep in lala land since—” 

Marinette groaned and put her head in her hands. “No. No, Alya, I can’t do this again,” she whined. “He’s older, he’s cool, he’s probably got a million people interested in him, and I’m—”

“You.” Alya began ticking off her fingers. “You’re a brilliant designer and a super creative mind. You’re also like, the nicest of the nice when you’re not in a competition. You know famous people—”

“One famous person.”

“Jagged Stone. Nadia Chamack. My mother.”

Marinette sighed, slumping. “Fine.”

“I’m just saying, don’t give up before you even talk to the guy,” Alya said, getting up to sit in Marinette’s second desk chair and take Marinette’s hands in hers. “I know the last time shook you up but you’re still an amazing person and just because Adrien couldn’t see it doesn’t mean that no one else will.” 

Marinette managed a half-hearted smile and some kind of response that must have satisfied Alya, because before long her best friend was chattering on about other topics. 

The thing was, Alya just didn’t understand. Many, many of the male gamers Marinette met were very nice, normal people, a small percentage were a little _too_ eager to be friendly, some were fine until she beat them and then they became cold and closed-mouthed around her. 

Then there were some who were downright hostile from the first moment she stepped in. Those nasty standouts were the reason she leaned into her Ladybug persona, separating Marinette from the gaming world as much as possible. Her hoodie and mask makeup were armor as much as branding, allowing her to slip into a tough shell that could handle the abuse hurled at her.

She could see it in Max, too, the difference between his everyday self and Pegasus. As her partner he both witnessed the vitriol flung at her and came in for a fair share himself, and not just because of his association with her. She felt guilty about it but Max had stood by her even when she suggested he might be better off with a male partner, so she did her best to keep up her bluster and sharpen her tongue to shield her sensitive partner from the worst of the abuse. Team Lucky Charm always showed up to the matches with their game faces on, Pegasus behind his dark glasses and Ladybug with her blue eyes burning defiance from her red and black mask. 

Marinette and Max had agreed to make the commitment to move up to the Master League because they both had big plans and big dreams. Marinette depended on her gaming winnings to support her more experimental designs, which, when they went well, earned her more commissions. Every commission took her one step closer to her dream of owning her own boutique line. Max used his gaming money to fund his robotics research and experimentation. Both their dreams were on the line. No matter how much fun she had playing Viperion, sooner or later, they’d be out of these rank matches and facing each other in playoff elimination matches. She had to figure out how to beat him before then. 

Ladybug couldn’t afford to be getting soft over a velvet voice, a slow smile, and gentle eyes, no matter how many butterflies took flight in her stomach when she talked to him. No matter how good of a guy he was, Ladybug needed to beat Viperion.


	2. Pinch Hitter

She lost. Again. Marinette kind of wanted to scream, but she just put her controller down as calmly as she could and stepped out of her pyrapod, giving herself a little mental pep talk about how she _was_ doing better against him. Not well enough to beat him in the finals, but she’d get there. This event was a huge con hosting multiple competitions in different leagues, so the pyrapods were all in a row and gated off from the general public. Luka, it turned out, was only a couple down from hers and she nearly ran into him as he emerged. 

“Hey,” he said, flashing a grin. Marinette felt the flush beginning as her heart raced. Damn the man, why did he have to be so _cute_? “You’re still amazing,” Luka commented, shaking his head as he offered his hand to shake as always. “I can always count on you to give me a real fight.” 

Marinette’s lips twisted as she shook his hand. “Do you compliment your male opponents this much?”

“I would if they were as good as you,” Luka replied easily, seeming unbothered by her tone. “Not many are.” 

“I’m not going to date you,” Marinette blurted, and almost bit her tongue off in horror, but Luka just laughed.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Luka grinned, gesturing for her to go ahead of him down the walkway. “Do you get asked out a lot in competitions?”

Marinette huffed. “Propositioned is more like it. And that’s putting it politely.” 

Luka went quiet for a moment, his face suddenly serious. “I’m sorry that’s happened to you. That’s not right.” 

Marinette was silent for a moment, struck by his sincere tone. Luka looked like he was struggling with whether or not to say more, but he didn’t. “Thank you,” she said finally.

He gave her a rueful smile. “Please don’t thank me for being a decent human being, it erodes my faith in humanity.”

Marinette snorted. “Try being me for a day.”

Luka nudged her shoulder with his arm as they both moved towards the exit gate. “No thanks. I don’t think I could handle it. You must be tougher than your mech to put up with the amount of crap you get.” 

Marinette’s lips twisted as she tried not to smile. He was too sweet, too genuine, and she was horrifyingly close to admitting to herself that she was moving well beyond _like_ and into _massive crush_ territory. 

She _hated_ that territory. The last guy had been nice too and it turned out that rejection sucked no matter how nice someone was about it.

“Not from everybody,” she shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “The nice people make the jerks easier to put up with. And the league is cracking down on the nastier trash talk, so that helps.” She was pretty sure he had something to do with that. He’d continued to complain loudly in his interviews about enforcement of the sportsmanship guidelines, and several of the magazines were starting to smell the kind of exposé that made sponsorship committees nervous. Marinette herself had gotten voicemails from media people wanting to talk to her about what it was like to be a girl in the league. Ergo he was at least partially responsible for the current crackdown—and was probably, it occurred to her suddenly, taking some flack for it. She should ask around. Not that she could really do much about it, even if people would talk to her.

On the one hand, she wondered why he cared so much. It certainly didn’t affect him the way it affected people like Marinette and Max. But then, thinking that way felt like a disservice to him. Luka just seemed like the kind of person who didn’t let unfairness and injustice slide. 

That might be the crush talking though. 

“Good, it’s about time they finally did something,” Luka snorted, snapping her back to reality. “Well, good luck in the two-on-two.” He held open the gate for her as they both exited the player arena.

Marinette’s face fell. “Oh. I’m not playing.”

Luka turned to look at her, eyes wide. “What? Why not, you guys have been rocketing up the ladder, why would you stop?”

“Not by choice,” Marinette shrugged. “Max is sick. _Really_ sick. I can’t play without a partner.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d be tempted to try honestly but those are the rules.” And without her partner, they would forfeit all the matches scheduled in this event. At the level they were at, that was bad. Very bad. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Luka asked, concern furrowing his brow. 

_Stop being so nice!_ she thought at him irritably. “He’ll be fine eventually, but he’s pretty miserable right now,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light despite her frustration with the whole situation. “He actually doesn’t get sick very often but when he does it takes him down hard, and we don’t have an alternate. Our friend Adrien used to fill in but he went to school abroad and we didn’t think to find a replacement.”

“Man, that really sucks,” Luka sighed. “I mean I’m sorry he’s feeling so bad, but also for you guys to go down like that after all that work this close to the playoffs. I know how passionate you are about…” He paused, and chewed his lip for a moment. Marinette looked at him curiously as Luka’s eyes flicked to the tournament screen, and back to Marinette. “Let’s do it,” he said.

“What?” Marinette asked, eyes widening slightly. 

“You need a partner, I’ll be your partner,” Luka shrugged. “I don’t know how good I’ll be, you know I don’t usually play two-on-two, but I’ll follow your lead and do my best. Even if we only win a couple, that’s better than having to forfeit them all, right?” 

“Y-you’d do that for me?” Marinette stared at him blankly. “Why?”

Luka shrugged, flashing that easy smile that made her heart flutter. “It’s not a hardship, I’m hanging around anyway, and I like to play. I can pinch hit for a couple of weeks if you need it, or at least today.”

“But you have your own matches to worry about,” Marinette protested, but Luka just laughed.

“If you can handle both, then so can I,” he told her. “And if I start losing because I’m playing in both, then maybe I’m not as good as I thought I was, since you play both in every event. Come on, let me help,” he added as he saw the undecided look on her face. “I don’t want you to lose rank over something you couldn’t control.” He grinned as he saw her give in. “Where do I sign up?”

“This way,” Marinette said, grabbing his hand without thinking and pulling him through the crowd. Her face heated when she realized what she had done, but he wasn’t pulling away and had even closed his hand over hers. His hands were so big compared to hers. 

They didn’t get very far before the sudden crush of the con crowd halted their progress. 

“This crowd is insane,” he muttered, nearly knocking into her from behind. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” panted Marinette, too focused on her goal to freak out about him being pressed against her. “But we’ve got to get through here before they close the registration.”

She felt his hum of agreement against her back, and then felt him stiffen. “Cover your ears,” he said, and as soon as she’d done so, he bellowed over the crowd. “Hey, Ivan! I need a way through, can you help me out?” 

Marinette looked up at him, and he grinned down at her. “Hang on to your spots and get ready to move, Ladybug, the cavalry's coming,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“Luka, what—”

“No time, just follow my lead,” Luka said, watching something that she was too short to see. “Okay, here he comes. Let’s go.” 

Suddenly there was room to breathe around them again, but Marinette didn’t have time to, because Luka practically hauled her off her feet and dragged her through the suddenly much thinner crowd. 

“You’re the best, man, I owe you one,” she heard Luka call. “Can you get us to registration?” 

She didn’t hear the answer but they started moving forward again. 

“They don’t call him the Bull for nothing,” Luka chuckled breathlessly. “Sorry for the manhandling, I didn’t want to lose you. We’re almost there.” Marinette got a glimpse of a broad back in a black t-shirt plowing the way ahead of them. Luka followed, pulling her along beside him in the big man’s wake. He was _strong_ under that ratty hoodie, she realized, trying to keep up and on her feet.

Then suddenly they were standing at the registration desk, and Luka let her go, making sure she was steady before he took his hands off her completely. “You okay?” he asked. “That was kind of rough, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine,” Marinette said, “Just a little ruffled.” She reached for the hem of her tank top, which had ridden up and twisted as Luka dragged her. Luka’s eyes darted to her exposed stomach and away again quickly. 

“Sorry,” he said, though she wasn’t sure for what exactly, and turned away from her to the big man, exchanging a handshake and a shoulder bump that made him stagger. “Hey, thanks Ivan, I owe you one.” 

Marinette got her shirt untwisted and pulled it down, resettled her hoodie on her shoulders, and then stepped forward to add her thanks. 

“Hey, no problem, Ladybug,” Ivan grinned. “I’m a big fan. Almost as big a fan as this guy.” He slapped Luka’s back, and Marinette looked at him, eyes widening slightly. Luka stared over her head at the registration lines, but she thought he was maybe blushing a little. Maybe it was just the heat from the crowd, though. Or wishful thinking on her part. 

“Sorry if this is a dumb question,” Luka began, still staring at the signs over the registration table. “But alphabetically are you registered under Ladybug or Lucky Charm?”

“Lucky Charm,” Marinette said, grinning at him. “But it doesn’t matter, they’re the same line.” 

The pink on his cheeks got darker. “Oh. Right.” 

“You better sharpen up before game time,” Marinette teased, slapping his arm.

“Don’t worry, Ladybug, I won’t let you down,” he grinned, with a wink that made her knees weak. 

It took some time, a little diplomacy, and a little bit of bluster to get Viperion added as an alternate for Team Lucky Charm and then to get them back on the roster for the day. Fortunately, their matches hadn’t been registered as forfeits yet and his individual rank was close enough to Marinette’s that the registrars couldn’t refuse. Marinette silently thanked Max for all of those boring lectures on the rules that she’d only half-listened to at the time, but which had been repeated so often that she was able to quote the appropriate rules back any time they questioned her.

“Team Lucky Charm,” the guy at the computer muttered, shaking his head. “You guys _are_ lucky, it’s been so busy this morning we haven’t had a chance to cancel out your matches. Now that we’ve got him registered as an alternate, I’ll just swap Viperion in for Pegasus...there. And you’re good to go.”

“That was impressive,” Luka commented as they walked away from the table.

“Thanks,” Marinette said, grabbing Luka’s arm so they didn’t get separated. “We should talk strategy. We don’t have time to set up a full code.”

“Code?” Luka asked, squeezing along through the crowd with her. 

“All four players are on the same channel, so most players use a code to keep their opponents off guard. But that takes time and practice and we’re not going to have that, but we can come up with a few simple things. Every little advantage we can get is a help. Your ability combo is so unusual and nobody plays like you, so that’s in our favor. Figuring out how we can complement each other, that’s going to be the hard part.” 

Luka pulled his arm free and put it around her shoulders, guiding her in a different direction. “Let’s go to the food court, it’s late enough that it’ll have cleared out. We can grab something to eat and get some breathing room.” 

“Good idea,” Marinette agreed, glancing at his hand on her shoulder. “We can call Max and see if he has any insight. I’m sure he’s watching the livestream no matter how crappy he feels.”

Luka was right; the food court wasn’t exactly empty but it was significantly less crowded than the rest of the con. 

“Why don’t you grab a table?” Marinette suggested. “I can get us some food. My treat, since you’re helping me out.” 

“No need, but I’m not going to turn you down,” he grinned down at her, and then pulled his arm back quickly as he realized it was still around her shoulders. “Ah, sorry,” he said. “I’m a little hands on, I know. I’ll be more careful, but please tell me if I make you uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable wasn’t the word she would have used. “You’re fine. I mean it’s fine,” she corrected hurriedly, and wanted to smack herself. She didn’t want to be back in this place. She wasn’t going to let it happen again. _Just focus on the game_ , Marinette told herself firmly, adjusting her Ladybug hoodie around her shoulders. Marinette might turn into a blushing, babbling mess in front of guys she liked but _Ladybug_ played to win. 

With that in her mind, she managed to keep it together long enough for them to eat lunch and work out some simple codes for the most important combos.

“Your playing style is so unique,” Marinette fretted, munching on the remains of her fries. “Honestly, it might be best if you just kind of do what you do and let me work around you.” 

Luka nodded thoughtfully as he finished his mouthful. “You’re adaptable,” he agreed. “You’re really good at improvising on the spot. I keep thinking I’ve got you and you pull something crazy out.” He grinned at her. “It’s why playing you is such a blast.” He sighed. “I just hope I don’t slow you down.”

Marinette snorted. “Like you do every time we play?”

Luka laughed. “I promise not to do it on purpose this time.”

“I promise to stay out of your way,” Marinette giggled back. 

“Despite your different approaches,” Max’s thick, scratchy voice came from the phone on the table between them. “The combination of your abilities presents intriguing possibilities. Whatever happens today, we’ll study the results for the next events.” He coughed and both Luka and Marinette winced at the sound. “Do you require my assistance any further?”

“No, we’ve got it, Max,” Marinette told him. “Get some rest and drink that tea Maman sent over.” 

“I’m already on my third cup,” Max replied thickly. “I wish you both best of luck, and Viperion—Luka—I am grateful for your assistance. Please look after my partner.”

“You got it, Max,” Luka said, leaning over the phone slightly. “Glad I could help out. Take it easy and feel better.” 

“Goodbye.” 

Marinette shut the phone off thoughtfully. “Really, this could work out,” she said, talking almost more to herself than Luka. “Our abilities balance pretty well. We’re going to lack some of Max’s high-powered precision strikes but if you can land your status effects then we’ve got more time to hammer at their weak points, and I’ve got enough armor to make up for yours.” She made a face. “That’s how you always get me, your attacks aren’t that powerful but you hit me with that stupid _Slow_ and—” she made a frustrated noise, and Luka laughed again. 

She loved his laugh.

“I can’t really say I’m sorry,” he grinned, pushing the remains of his meal away. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I did.” 

“Not for a moment,” she agreed, and his grin widened, and she had to look away. Luka looked at his phone and started picking up their trash.

“We better get going,” he said, reaching for hers. “Are you done?” 

“Oh, yes,” Marinette leaned back, letting him take it. “Thank you.” 

They cleaned up and made their way through the crowd, and the next few minutes were a familiar whirlwind as they were sorted into their team pyrapods and matched up. Luka and Marinette put on their headsets and picked up their controllers. The match announcers began to read out the rules. Marinette paid very little attention but when she glanced at Luka had a small crinkle between his brows, apparently listening intently. That was good, she supposed. She felt him take a slow, deep breath next to her as the countdown appeared on the screen. 

As they had planned, their mechs both attacked in sync as soon as the countdown was over. 

“Well, well,” one of their opponent’s voices drawled in their ears. “Viperion himself, come down to join the masses in the co-op? I feel honored.” 

“First time for everything,” Viperion murmured back, most of his attention on keeping the damage-dealing mech pinned down while Ladybug’s more powerful attacks slammed into the defender. The taunting and jabs continued, escalating as Viperion and Ladybug held their own. It wasn’t as easy as it was with Pegasus. Pegasus’ weakness as a player was his formulaic approach and rigid strategy; it was part of why he didn’t play one on one. Individually, he was too easy to predict, but Ladybug’s flexibility and creative thinking combined with Pegasus’ precision strikes made them a powerful team.

Viperion was less predictable than Pegasus, and more than once they found themselves in each other’s way despite their hurried planning. They recovered quickly each time, though it was costing them little by little.

It was a close fight and Ladybug was beginning to resign herself to a loss when a flash of inspiration hit her.

“Hey Viperion,” she said suddenly. “You remember our third match?”

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Can you do that again?

She actually heard the grin in his voice. “Just tell me when, Bug.”

When she’d wondered after that match why he didn’t use that attack more often, Max had theorized that the ability’s short duration required extremely precise timing and that most of Viperion’s other attacks weren’t fast enough to capitalize on the follow up. When he’d used it on Ladybug, the recurring damage from his Venom Strike hit just at the critical moment, and had been enough to finish her off in the short moment before the ability wore off. 

The thing was, Viperion might not have a good follow up attack, but Ladybug did.

Marinette concentrated on getting their opponents set up, and then triggered her own attack as she snapped, “Now!”

Viperion triggered his stun attack right on cue. Their opponents tried to counter just as Ladybug had months ago, and it didn’t work any better for them than it did for her. The targeted mecha was frozen in place just long enough for the Bug Bomb Ladybug had triggered to soar in and take the enemy down in a series of dramatic explosions. The other mecha tried to finish them off, but slowed and crippled by the Venom Strike that had been chipping away at it since the first engagement, it couldn’t move fast enough to do the damage needed, nor avoid a repeat of that killer combo once Viperion’s stun ability had recharged. 

Luka whooped and threw his arms up next to her. Marinette winced; he was _loud_ when he wanted to be. 

“That was amazing! You were _amazing_ . Man, what a _rush_.”

“Easy Viperion,” Marinette murmured. “That was only the first round.”

“Right, sorry,” he said, bouncing slightly on his toes. “Right. I’m ready.” 

Marinette gave him an amused side glance as their mics went dead. “What happened to that chill guy who kept kicking my ass?” 

Luka snorted. “I’ve never manage to deliver anything remotely like an ass-kicking when I play you. I always just edge you out, at best. I seem to recall getting beat more than a few times over the last couple months.” He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and admitted, “And there was never anywhere near this much pressure. If I lose, I lose; but I definitely don’t want to be the reason _you_ lose.”

“Hey,” Marinette looked up at him, catching his arm and tugging him until he was looking back at her. “No matter what happens,” she said firmly, looking into his eyes as best she could in the dim light, “You can’t possibly be the reason I lose. You’re the reason I got to play. So thank you for that. Now, I know you play your best when you’re relaxed so do whatever you need to do to get rid of the nerves because we’ve got five minutes until we’re up again.” 

“Right,” Luka said, setting his controller down on the counter. “Can you give me a warning when we’ve got about a minute left?”

“Yeah,” Marinette blinked. “Sure.”

Luka’s eyes flicked sideways at her. “Don’t laugh,” he said, “I swear it helps.” He faced forward and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. His fingers closed in front of him in what she recognized as a meditation pose. 

Marinette raised her eyebrows. _Huh. Well, whatever works for him._

Marinette bounced lightly on her toes, trying not to distract her partner, and thought over the match, trying to think of ways she could compensate for their issues. At the one minute mark, she tapped Luka’s elbow lightly, and when he came out of his meditation or breathing exercise or whatever it was, she spoke quickly. He nodded at her suggestions, and then they picked up their controllers as the countdown began.

* * *

“Well,” Luka sighed, holding his phone between them so that they could both see the rankings after the day’s matches. “It’s...better than a bunch of forfeits right?”

“It’s pretty good, actually,” Marinette agreed, nodding. It wasn’t the kind of jump they usually made, but they had actually climbed just a little bit, though they’d lost the match that would have given them the biggest jump. What mattered most was that they had won the matches that would have knocked them down if they lost. “We held our own. At least we still stand a chance. Hey,” she said, turning to Luka and looking up at him. “Thanks for playing with me today. I really appreciate it and it was incredibly nice of you. I hate to ask for more, but...would you be interested in being our alternate for the next event? Max might be better by then, but honestly I’m not counting on it. Whatever he got just hit him a day or so ago.”

“Sure, you can count me in for whatever you need until Max is better,” he shrugged, that easy-going smile on his face. “I’m assuming you’d rather meet up ahead of time for the next one, though?” He pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to her. “I don’t want Max to have a relapse, or worse, at the thought of us winging it again.” 

“True,” Marinette giggled, handing him her own phone. They each programmed in their own numbers, and traded back again. 

“Cool,” Luka said as he put his things in his pocket. “Pressure aside, that was really a lot of fun. Thanks for—” 

“Don’t you dare,” Marinette interrupted him, raising a warning finger. “I’m the only one doing the thanking today. You did me a favor, big time, and I really appreciate it.” 

“Well,” Luka looked down for a moment, and then back into her face with a smile. “I was glad to do it. I had just as much fun playing with you as against you, so. I’m looking forward to doing it again. Not that I hope Max stays sick, but…” He grinned and winked as he turned to go. “Call me if you need me.” 

At least, Marinette reflected as she watched him go, Max wasn’t there to tease her about her red face this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, for those who are enjoying the Max/Marinette brotp, Max is not gone for good. Plot flu is a virulent disease but only lasts for 1-2 chapters.


	3. Home-Field Advantage

Marinette spent the morning of the day Luka was supposed to come over working in the bakery, helping her mother pack up purchases and prepare orders for pickup, which at least had the advantage of keeping her too busy to fret over the cute boy coming to spend the afternoon in her room and the many embarrassing things that had happened the last time something like this had happened. She’d been so absorbed in what she was doing that she didn’t realize he’d arrived until she turned around, her arms full of loaded bakery boxes, and nearly screeched and dropped them all at the sight of him. 

Luka was quick, putting a hand on the top box to keep it from sliding off and catching a corner of the lower one to stop its dip towards the ground. He steadied the stack until Marinette got a grip, on both her wits and the boxes. “Woah, sorry,” he grinned. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“You didn’t,” she blurted, and then winced, face burning. “Well. Obviously you did, but it wasn’t your fault, my brain was on another planet or something. Give me just a minute to finish this order and I’ll be right with you.”

“Sure.” Luka stepped back with a good-humored smile, and Marinette turned to set the boxes on the counter for her mother, who was ringing up the order. 

“Thanks for the help, dear,” Sabine smiled. “I can handle the rest. Better get your friend upstairs before your father sees him. You know how he is.” Sabine gave Luka an apologetic smile. “He gets a little, uh...enthusiastic, when Marinette brings new friends over.”

Luka chuckled. “He can’t be much worse than my mom.”

“Yes, he can,” Marinette groaned. “Thanks, Maman.” 

“Have fun, dears,” Sabine said absently, turning back to the counter. 

“Thank you, Madame,” Luka said politely, following Marinette through the back. 

“Sorry about the stairs,” Marinette said as they began to climb. “There’s kind of a lot. My room’s all the way at the top.” 

“No problem,” Luka shrugged. He glanced at her and then away. “You look nice.” 

Marinette rolled her eyes to cover the fluttering in her stomach. “Don’t get excited, this is how I always dress at home.” It was true, too, she was only wearing a simple sundress that she had made in crisp pink and white fabric, with black piping and bows around the collar and straps. Her room, being both above the bakery and on the floor most exposed to the sun, tended to be warm. She’d contemplated dressing Ladybug style but decided keeping up her tough image in front of Luka wasn’t worth being uncomfortable, and...she didn’t want to. She’d put her hair up into a bun covered with a piece of patterned cloth that matched her dress and tied with a lace ribbon, since she was working in the bakery. She looked nothing like Ladybug right now and she knew it, and she wondered very much what he thought about it. 

“Really.” Luka paused, glancing at her again as Marinette opened the door to the living area, and then followed her through. “Not what I expected, but I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

“Honestly I tend to keep the gaming part of my life pretty separate from the rest,” Marinette admitted as she turned and motioned him to follow her through the kitchen and up even more stairs. “I don’t hide it or anything, but, a tournament’s a tournament and when it’s over I go back to real life.” 

“Makes sense,” Luka agreed, following her up the stairs. Marinette fought the urge to tug on the hem of her skirt, even though she knew it was long enough to keep him from seeing anything. She did glance back as she opened the trap door of her room and Luka was staring at the step beneath his feet. “Here we are,” she said, popping through. “I don’t want to hear a word about the pink.” 

Once they stepped onto the floor of her room, he didn’t say anything for a moment and she glanced over at him. 

“It’s very…” Luka trailed off, still looking around.

“What?” Marinette asked, a little more sharply than she meant to. 

“Nice, but again, not what I expected,” he shrugged, chuckling. His eyes fell on the stack of gaming magazines stacked neatly to one side of her desk. “Except that.” He grinned, going over to lift one from the stack and turn it towards her. It was open to one of his interviews with his picture in the corner. “You been checking up on me?”

“Of course,” Marinette said, turning away quickly to get out the controllers—and so he wouldn’t see her blush. “You and everyone else I play regularly. As Max would say, the more data the better.” 

“He’s pretty scientific about it, isn’t he?” Luka said, laying the magazine back down on the stack, his gaze caught by the poster hanging above Marinette’s desk. “What’s this?” he nodded toward it, looking back at her. 

“Goal poster,” Marinette said a little shortly, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. The poster had started out as the tournament advertisement. Marinette had added pictures of equipment and materials she intended to buy, a large printout of the logo she had designed for her business, and several handwritten cards with motivational quotes and encouraging words, all arranged around the UMS logo and the prize listings. “I do freelance fashion design and I’d like to get my business jumpstarted.” 

“I see,” Luka said, studying the poster. “Wow. So, wait, those hoodies you guys wear at the matches, did you make those?” He looked at Marinette, and she nodded. “Awesome. You guys always look great. Like a team, I mean, ready to take on the world.”

“That’s the point,” Marinette replied, still feeling oddly vulnerable and defensive.

“That’s really smart,” Luka smiled. “I kind of lucked in to being niche-famous but you guys are prepared. That’ll really draw some attention if you make it to the finals.”

“ _If_ ,” Marinette sniffed. “I hate that word.”

Luka chuckled. “Well then we better get started, I’d hate to hold you back.” 

Marinette grinned, tossing him a controller, which he caught with ease. “To answer your question,” she kicked a hot pink rolling desk chair over to him and turned the other around, falling into it, “Max is _very_ scientific and very precise and he knows how to work his stats to get the maximum benefit. Buuut he’s not super flexible and sometimes gets a little overwhelmed when we need to think fast.” 

“That’s why you make a great team, huh?” Luka said, sitting in the chair and wheeling himself over next to her. “You think on your feet and outside of the box. You do things people normally wouldn’t think of and when you’re in a tight spot, that’s when you get really crazy.” He chuckled. “And somehow you make it work.”

“Usually,” Marinette grumbled, making a face, and Luka coughed, covering a laugh, she was sure. She wheeled up to the computer, silently horrified by how much she was blushing as she dialed up the video call with Max. All Luka did was compliment her game play! He did that all the time! Just not usually so...analytically. In fact usually he complimented her when she landed a hit on _him_. Of course it made sense he’d observe her gameplay and take notes, she did the same, and it was nothing to get excited over.

She really hoped Max couldn’t tell through the webcam. _He_ looked terrible, but he’d insisted that she call him, anxious, she thought, over whether Luka could really pull his weight in a team competition. 

“Hey, Max,” Marinette smiled sympathetically. “We’re all set up on our end, are you good?” 

“Not even remotely,” Max muttered miserably. “But let’s begin. Viperion—Luka—I have some observations.”

“Okay, I’m listening,” Luka said, rolling a little closer. Marinette fought the urge to move away and tried to focus on Max’s laborious recitation, wincing a little at just how bad he sounded. _He should be resting_ , she thought, but the only way to get him to rest was to listen, so they did. 

* * *

“This isn’t working.” Marinette sighed and put her controller down.

“I concur,” Max said reluctantly. “Your performance as a team has declined considerably since we began.” He sighed, which turned into a hacking cough that made Marinette wince. 

She put that aside for a moment and swiveled in her chair to face Luka, then grabbed the edge of his chair and turned it so that he was looking at her too. “Luka, you can’t keep doing this. Being a team player doesn’t mean blindly following orders. You need to take some initiative on your own.”

“Marinette is correct,” Max’s creaky voice came from the speaker. “Your willingness to take correction is appreciated but it is pointless if our advice handicaps you. You need to move more freely.”

Luka winced. “Sorry. I just don’t want to step on your toes, you guys clearly have a system and—”

“Just because we have a system doesn’t mean that—”

“Marinette,” Max interrupted. “Perhaps it would be best if you and Viperion work from here without my intervention. Vi—Luka, there is no need for you to feel bound to do things the way we do them. Our approach is optimized to our skills and relationship. You and Ladybug should formulate a unique partnership suited to you both rather than to me.” Both listeners winced as Max coughed again wetly. “And to be honest, I believe I could use a nap.” 

“Of course, Max,” Marinette said immediately. “Rest and get better. Don’t worry about us, we’ll figure it out.” 

“Feel better, man,” Luka added. “You take care of yourself right now.” 

“Thank you both. I have confidence you can work this out. I was hoping to be more useful to you, but...well. It appears the only advice I can give you both is—” he grinned weakly. “Adapt or die.” 

“That’s encouraging,” Marinette snorted, and then softened. “Go to sleep, Max. We’ll figure this out.” 

“Good luck.” 

There was silence for a beat after Max hung up. “I’ll go get us some snacks,” Marinette said, pushing back from the desk. “Maybe it’ll give us a little boost. Any allergies or preferences I should know about?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Luka sighed, falling against the back of the chair and staring at the controller in his hands before setting it down on the desk and raking both hands through his hair. “Whatever you’ve got works for me.” 

“Okay,” Marinette said, setting a hand on his shoulder as she passed. “Don’t get discouraged, Luka. We’ll work it out.”

“Yeah,” Luka attempted a grin, but it lacked the power of his usual smile. “I know.”

When Marinette came back with a platter laden with an assortment of sweet and savory pastries, Luka was holding one of the picture frames that lined the back of her desk.

“Hey!” Marinette pouted, glaring.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, turning the picture to face her. “I didn’t mean to be nosy. It’s just, that’s my sister, in the middle. With the dark hair. I didn’t realize you knew each other.” 

She looked at the picture and blinked. “Couffaine,” Marinette said, comprehension dawning. “I should have realized. I’d forgotten Juleka had a brother. I haven’t seen her since she changed schools back in middle school so I didn’t make the connection.” She looked him over, trying to think. “I could’ve sworn I’d met Juleka’s brother before,” she said thoughtfully, tapping a finger to her lips in thought. 

“I dye my hair a different color for tournament season,” Luka said, tugging one turquoise lock. “Usually I’m more ‘Lagoon Blue’,” he grinned, pulling out his phone. He turned it toward her and showed her a picture of himself standing with Juleka, with a shaggy blue ombre instead of the turquoise on top. “I only just cut it this year, too, so it would’ve been longer back then.”

“Okay, yeah,” Marinette nodded. “You used to pick her up from school sometimes.” She giggled. “I remember now, you had way more of a baby face back then.”

“Yeah.” Luka grinned as he put away his phone. “It’s been a few years, I’ve grown up a bit. So has she. So have you,” he added, setting the framed picture back down. Marinette winced a little, trying not to look at the picture, at the skinny girl with the too-wide grin. “Juleka hated it when I picked her up after school,” Luka chuckled. “So I did it as often as I could.”

“How’s she doing?” Marinette asked, putting the plate on the desk between them before she sat down again. “I know it was rough for her for a while there, when she left.”

“She’s doing much better,” Luka smiled. “She still has difficult days, but it’s a process. She’s made huge strides from where she was back then.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Marinette smiled back tentatively. She handed him a napkin and waved him towards the pastries. 

They ate in thoughtful silence, Marinette trying to figure out a better approach, and Luka lost in his own thoughts. More than once she glanced at him and found his eyes on her, but each time he dropped his gaze to his food.

“What?” Marinette finally asked, blushing, not sure if she was annoyed or amused or something else entirely. 

Luka started and then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare. I swear I’m not a creep. It’s just you look really different at the matches with the clothes and the makeup—” He gestured around his eyes. “I guess I’m having trouble reconciling that with this.” This time he waved a hand that encompassed all of her. “Like I said, I get why you do it, the image, it makes total sense, but I didn’t realize underneath it all you were so…” He grinned. “Sweet.” 

Marinette’s face flamed red and he choked on a laugh, trying valiantly to keep a straight face though his twitching lips gave him away. Lips that she was really trying not to look at any more than necessary.

She looked down, smoothing her dress over her knees absently. “I don’t think you’re a creep,” she said, in as neutral a tone as possible. “You’re...you’re a good guy, Luka. I can see that. I know I haven’t always been the nicest to you so...well, I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t like you. Sometimes my competitiveness gets the better of me and things come out harsher than I meant.” 

“Hey, I love that about you,” Luka said so easily that she was sure that he didn’t mean anything by it, though it still made her face flame up again. “Both the way you don’t take crap from anybody, and the fire that you have for the win. There’s nothing wrong with being competitive. You still have fun, and that’s why you’re so much fun to play. You don’t give an inch but you haven’t lost sight of why you love the game, either.” 

What a thing to be embarrassed about, but Marinette could no more help her blush than she could stop the sun from rising. “And now here I am playing with the league poster boy,” she teased, not looking at him. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Luka groaned. “It’s kind of embarrassing. I mean, I know I’m good, but I’m not—” he gestured at the stack of magazines. “I don’t even know what to think about it half the time. I mean, I get it, sort of, but…” He shook his head, and ran a self-conscious hand through his hair and down to his neck. “Why me?” 

Marinette gave him a flat look. “It’s because you’re hot, Luka. Don’t act like you don’t know. You’re hot and you’re ‘the cool guy,’” she made finger quotes. “And they think your image sells. You have a brand too, whether you did it on purpose or not.” 

To her mild surprise, he ducked his head a little at that, and the grin that spread across his face was goofy and embarrassed and not even remotely cool. Marinette giggled in spite of herself. “Don’t act like you didn’t know,” she teased him again.

“Yeah, well,” Luka glanced up at her. “There’s knowing it and there’s believing it and the two things are farther away than I’d like them to be sometimes. So maybe it helps to hear it out loud sometimes.” He winked at her and Marinette turned red as a cherry. 

Putting her nose in the air, she turned away from him and grabbed a pastry off the plate, shoving it in her mouth and ignoring Luka’s quiet laughter. God, had she really said that? Ugh, how embarrassing. And he was Juleka’s _brother_ , too, that was a whole other level of weird. Poor Juleka, she’d had such a difficult time back then, suddenly targeted by the school bully for no better reason than Juleka had grown up a bit sooner than the rest of them, and her slender, elegant build and unique style were more competition than Chloe cared for. 

Not that Chloe would ever have admitted it, choosing instead to hammer away at all of the ways Juleka was _different_ , and the naturally sensitive girl hadn’t stood a chance against Chloe’s unreasoning cruelty, and—

Marinette suddenly had a flash of insight and she blurted, “Is it because of Juleka? Is that why you’re so outspoken about the sportsmanship enforcement?”

Luka froze, and Marinette bit her lip, suddenly realizing that she was asking him a very personal question. She opened her mouth to take it back, but Luka was already speaking.

“I’d like to think I’d be that way anyway,” he said, his hands slowly curling into fists in his lap. “I’d like to think I’d do the right thing regardless.” He sighed gustily. “But we’ll never know, because all of that _did_ happen, and let’s just say I have a special place in my hate for bullies who pick on people for being different. I still don’t like _why_ I get so much publicity, but if they’re going to give it to me, I’m gonna use it, you know? Luka smiled ruefully. “Don’t thank me for it, though, I’m not a hero, just a guy trying to do the right thing.”

“You might be a little bit of a hero,” Marinette again spoke without thinking, and quickly covered her mouth, looking away, utterly mortified. She cleared her throat and then tried to cover. “I bet Juleka thinks so, anyway. Deep down. Where she’ll never ever admit it to you.”

Luka laughed. “Not if her life depended on it,” he chuckled. “Thanks, Marinette.”

“Don’t thank me, either,” Marinette sighed. “I should be apologizing, actually. I wasn’t very good at standing up even for myself back then, let alone anyone else. I should have done more for Juleka. Thinking back on it now I feel like such a coward.”

There was a moment of silence, and Marinette stared down at her hands.

“You guys were just kids,” Luka said finally, a gentleness in his voice that just made her feel more ashamed. “But If you owe anybody an apology, it’d be Juleka and not me. Okay? You and me, we’re good. Let’s just move on.” He put a hand out and squeezed her shoulder lightly. “So, how do we want to try this? Since what we were doing obviously wasn’t working that great.” 

Marinette blew out a frustrated sigh and slumped in her chair. “I just don’t understand,” she complained. “We did fine in the tournament. Why are we having problems now?” 

“I’m overthinking,” Luka admitted, tapping the controller on his knee lightly. “You guys are so—”

“Anal?” Marinette said dryly, and Luka gave her a sheepish grin. “It’s okay, you can say it.” 

“I was going to go with analytical, but that too. I’m just not used to it,” Luka admitted. “It’s too much information. I can’t keep it all straight in my head and I seize up.”

“That’s fair,” Marinette said thoughtfully, setting her chair in a spin as she considered. “Max is very logical, and you’re more intuitive. I’m somewhere in between. So...when we take away your flexibility, limit your thinking, it starts to be a problem for you. In the tournament, you just did your thing, and I worked around you, and we did okay. Not the level we needed, but if we start with that—” 

Luka reached out and caught the arms of her chair to stop her spin, and Marinette blinked up at him, his face suddenly much closer than she expected. 

“Marinette,” he quirked an amused eyebrow at her. “You’re making me dizzy.” 

“Right,” Marinette grinned, trying not to shrink back. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Obviously,” he chuckled, his breath fanning over her face. “So, you’re thinking we need, what...to work less like a team?”

“Kind of,” Marinette shrugged. “If we can work out a few combo moves that work at strategic moments, like last time, then maybe we don’t have to think so hard, and then the rest, learning how to move around each other and when to strike...that’s just practice.”

Luka nodded slowly. “Okay. So how do we do that?” 

Marinette shrugged. “We’ll stop trying to think every move through and just play, and hopefully let our strategy evolve naturally for a bit until we figure out the moves we can pull off together and that work the best.” 

Luka grinned right back at her with that saucy tilt to his smile that made her weak in the knees. “Now you’re speaking my language. Go on.” 

“Step one, we need to get you loosened back up again.” She grinned wickedly as an idea occurred to her and Luka’s eyebrows raised slightly.

“And how are you planning to do that?” he asked. 

Marinette’s grin widened, and she leaned forward slightly, a little pleased when he swallowed and leaned back just a hair. “How about a target a little closer to home?” Marinette asked innocently, and Luka’s eyebrows raised further. 

“What did you have in mind?”

Marinette tried not to giggle, but a few escaped her lips as she asked him, “Remember when you said my dad couldn’t be that bad? Are you willing to find out?”

Luka blinked, finally sitting all the way back from her. “Um, sure?”

Marinette got up, still giggling. “I’ll be right back.” 

It took pouting and begging and finally, the teeny tiniest hint that she might kind of like Luka a little bit, but Marinette managed to pull Tom away from the bakery. All of the work for today was long finished, she knew, and he’d just been prepping for tomorrow’s baking. She could help him tonight and make up the time. 

The look on Luka’s face when Tom swept exuberantly into the room was absolutely worth the time she’d be putting in later. She easily recognized the _holy shit, he’s big_ shock on Luka’s face but it quickly gave way to slightly puzzled amusement as Tom carried on about how he was there to show you two how to win _Dad style_ , and then you’d really take that tournament by storm, and have you seen Marinette play? When that drew an exasperated _Papa! Haven’t you been listening, of course he has!_ Tom hastily corrected himself, booming on with of course you have, and she was amazing wasn’t she, and what was your name again son?

Tom cheerfully interrogated Luka as they got the game set up and Marinette handed her father her controller, unable to keep the grin off her face at her papa’s enthusiasm and Luka’s perplexed amusement. She grabbed a sketchbook off her desk and sat back to do a little loosening up of her own as she watched Tom and Luka go head to head. 

It quickly occurred to her that she’d never actually _seen_ Luka play before. Up until now, they’d been in separate pods, and even when they played side by side she was focused on the game and not on Luka. 

Now, though, she had the leisure to sit back and observe, and she found her eyes on Luka instead of the screen more often than not. It was fascinating, the way competition lent a spark to his normally laid-back expression and threaded tension through his frame. She liked his relaxed nature but this energy suited him, too.

Or else she was just hopelessly smitten. What was it with her and incredibly attractive, emotionally unavailable men? 

Luka glanced at her at just that moment and gave her a grin and a wink before his eyes darted back to the screen, and Marinette sank down a little farther in her chair, hiding behind her sketchbook so neither of them would notice her red cheeks. 

_You don’t know he’s emotionally unavailable_ , a voice that sounded a lot like Alya’s whispered in her head. _Quit projecting your anxieties and woman up, girl!_

Marinette shook herself and focused on her sketching, but that didn’t help much. The image taking shape on her paper was definitely Viperion-inspired. Circular, like her ladybug emblem, but this one was a snake coiled around and back in on itself, grinning around a mouthful of its own tail. Kind of a weird take on the ouroboros, maybe, but it seemed fitting for Luka’s gaming personality and style. Marinette wondered if he would like it.

Not that she was planning on showing him. She set the sketchbook aside face down on the desk as Tom and Luka both leapt out of their chairs, yelling over each other, until finally Luka threw his arms up with that deafening victory whoop Marinette remembered from the competition, and Tom mimed a dramatic death, falling back into his chair in a way that made Marinette wince for her furniture.

“That was awesome,” Luka laughed, reaching over to shake Tom’s hand the same way he always did Marinette’s. 

Tom accepted the handshake good naturedly and laughed, looking toward Marinette. “I can see why you’re obsessed with beating him. I almost had him!”

“Right?” Marinette exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “You think you’ve got him and then bam, something hits you that he set up ages ago and suddenly you’re the one in trouble!”

She paused, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at Luka. “He plays the long game,” she continued thoughtfully, and Luka was giving her that expectant look again, his eyebrows raised as he listened to her speak her thoughts aloud. “I’m good at thinking on the spot,” Marinette said, tapping her finger against her chin. "But _you_ set things up and then just dig in and wait for them to pay off. It’s all about timing for you. It’s not working for us together because you’re trying to keep up with me and that’s not your style.” Luka’s grin was spreading slowly over his face as Marinette’s excitement grew. “That fits in with what we were saying before; why we did better when you did your own thing and I worked around you. So if we work with that...if you get them set up the way you do and create opportunities, weak moments I can take advantage of...Luka, we can work with this.” 

“Well, it sounds like I’m not needed anymore,” Tom said, putting a large hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ll get back to my bakery and let you two get scheming. But you, young man—” He shook his finger at Luka, but there was no malice in the gesture. “As soon as this tournament business is over, I want a rematch.” 

“I’d love that, sir,” Luka chuckled, and staggered as Tom pulled him into a quick half hug.

“Have fun, kids,” Tom told them cheerfully as he went back downstairs. 

Marinette giggled at the slightly dumbfounded look on Luka’s face. “Sorry about that. I know you said you’re a hands-on person, but if he’s too much, you can tell him. He won’t be offended.”

“Nah,” Luka chuckled, sitting back down. “He’s fine. My Dad hasn’t really been in the picture for years, so...it’s actually kind of nice.” He cleared his throat, picking up the controller that Tom had set down and offering it to Marinette. “So...ready to give this another try?” 

Marinette hopped into the chair, wiggling a little bit in excitement as she smiled and reached for the controller. The look in his eyes as she took it from him made her freeze for a moment, but he just shook his head slightly and looked away, and she would really have liked to know what that smile meant. 

Marinette turned hurriedly back to the desk to get them logged back in, hoping he couldn’t tell how fast her heart was suddenly beating.

At least while they played she could keep her mind focused. And they _did_ have fun; so much so that Marinette was surprised when there was a knock on her trapdoor and Alya’s head popped up. 

“Oh,” Alya stopped, blinking. “I didn’t realize you had company.” With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Marinette watched her check Luka out and turn her sharp eyes on Marinette, who was thankfully _not_ blushing just at that moment, though it felt like she had been all afternoon. 

“No worries,” Luka said, smiling, looking up at the sunset light coming through the windows. “I didn’t realize it was getting so late. I should probably go.” He stood up and snagged his hoodie off the back of his chair. “No need to walk me out,” he said, waving Marinette back into her chair when she would have stood up. He slid the hoodie back on over the arms she’d been trying so hard not to look at all afternoon. “You ladies have a good day—or evening I guess, and Marinette, I’ll see you soon. My place next time?” 

“Sure,” Marinette mustered a smile. “Good session, Luka, thanks.” 

Alya watched him go, leaning down the trap door for reasons that Marinette was sure were _not_ appropriate, and then straightened, turning wide eyes to Marinette. “ _Girl. Spill.”_

Marinette sighed. “He just came over to practice.” 

“Practice what?” Alya snickered, and Marinette rolled her eyes.

“I told you he’s filling in for Max in the tournament this weekend. He’s really good but we’ve only played against one another so he came over to practice and get a code set up so we’re prepared for the next tournament event.” Alya raised her eyebrows expectantly, and Marinette sighed. “And apparently I’m going over to his place in a few days to practice some more.” 

Alya squealed, and Marinette groaned. She turned her back on her best friend and picked up her sketchbook, staring thoughtfully at the serpentine design on the page and mentally thumbing through her stash of green fabrics for something suitable.


	4. Finding the Groove

Marinette felt awkward, walking up the steps of the gangway connecting the péniche to the bank. Luka was nowhere in sight, and she stood in the middle of the narrow ramp, a hand on each rail and her index finger tapping lightly. She was already a little rattled from anxiety over the project she’d been working on at home, from arguing with herself over whether it was weird or too much, and now coming here and not knowing what to do was getting to her a little bit. Luka hadn’t given her any instructions except the location of the boat, and it wasn’t as if she could just ring the doorbell, so…

“Are you going to stand there all day, lass?” a booming, accented, _female_ voice demanded, and Marinette jumped, looking around frantically for a moment before spotting the woman standing on the cluttered deck, two fists on her hips and her feet firmly planted. Imposing as her figure was, the expression on her face was friendly amusement and, like Luka, she had gentle eyes behind her round glasses. 

“Oh, I—I wasn’t sure how to—I mean, I’m here to see Luka? I guess I thought, uh…” Marinette’s shoulders hunched slightly, her eyes taking in the flowered headband and thick chunky jewelry and the amp cord necklace. 

“Ah, yes, he mentioned he had company coming over today. So you’re the lass from the tournament, eh? I’m Luka’s mother and the captain of this little floating paradise. Name’s Anarka, or Captain Anarka if you can’t stomach anything else. Don’t call me Madam and we’ll get along fine.”

“O-okay, M—uh, Captain,” Marinette said quickly. 

The grey-haired woman smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges, and jerked her head. “Well come aboard, lass. Luka’s playing on the upper deck, I’m sure he lost track of time or he’d have been down here to meet you. Those stairs, right there. Watch your step; clutter’s a way of life around here.” Anarka pointed, and Marinette came carefully onto the boat, picking her way across the deck towards the stairs. 

Anarka made no move to follow her, so Marinette just went on up the stairs, hoping Luka would be easy to find. She didn’t even register the music playing until she got to the top of the stairs, though it was probably audible from the bank even; she’d just had other things on her mind.

At least Luka _was_ easy to find sitting half-reclined in a deck chair, one boot planted on a crate and an electric guitar in his lap, a pair of electric blue mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes and flashing in the bright sun as he bobbed his head in time to the music coming from both his amp beside him and the stereo speakers behind him. The track playing was the album cut, but Luka was playing over it, his guitar blending in beautifully with the existing instrumentation and giving it a bit more edge and a more complex sound. It sounded really cool, actually. Nino would love it, Marinette thought absently.

Then Luka opened his mouth and that smooth voice that had always been so soft and gentle rang out strong and clear as he sang along with the track, body swaying to the music, hands still moving over the guitar. “They tell me think with my head, not that thing in my chest, they got their hands at my neck this time. But you’re the one that I want, if that’s really so wrong, then you don’t know what that feeling is like.” 

She thought his eyes must have been closed behind his sunglasses because he didn’t react to her at all until she called his name.

“Oh, hey,” he said, pulling off his shades to blink at her. “Crap, sorry, I—” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time, and then grinned sheepishly at her. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette smiled. “It sounded good.”

Luka’s face lit up. “Yeah, you liked it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, tucking a strand of hair back. “You’re really good.” 

“Thanks,” he grinned, putting both feet on the deck and straightening up. “Hang on, we’re all set up, just let me turn this off and we can get started. I was just killing time, but I didn’t realize how much I guess. I get into the zone and—” He gestured vaguely. “Well. You probably know how it is.” 

“I do,” Marinette smiled. “I’m not in a hurry.” Marinette watched as he turned off the sound system and put his guitar back in the case with practiced care. “I made sure I had the whole afternoon free. How long have you been playing? Guitar, I mean, not UMS.”

“Practically all my life,” he told her as he zipped up the case. “Learned from my mom, she was a rock guitarist back in the day. I was just messing around, though. If I really wanted to practice I’d go down on the stage and hook up the big amp.” 

Marinette’s eyebrows raised. “You have an entire stage whenever you just feel like practicing?”

Luka shrugged and gave her that roguish grin and wink that made her knees weak. “Welcome to the _Liberty_. Everything we do here is dramatic and over the top.”

“That...doesn’t sound like you at all, actually,” Marinette giggled. 

Luka chuckled. “Well, you don’t actually know me all that well. You’ve never seen me perform. Or get angry.”

Marinette smirked. “I wouldn’t like you when you’re angry?” 

Luka’s laugh rang out, and here in his home, in the open air, it was loud and unrestrained, and Marinette had to smile. “You’re funny,” he said, shaking his head as he straightened up and motioned for her to follow him. “Come on, I love the sun myself but I figured you might not want to fry out here so I set us up in the shade where the glare isn’t so bad.” 

Marinette followed him around the wheelhouse to an area shaded with a tarp, with two deck chairs in front of a TV strapped to a crate with bungee cords. The crate itself was similarly strapped to the rail. “Sorry, it’s not exactly a high tech setup,” he said, picking up a pair of controllers out of the chair and handing one to her. 

“I like it, actually,” Marinette replied, taking the controller and sitting down in one of the chairs. “It’s comfortable.” 

“Way better than those damn pods,” Luka agreed with a grin. “You’d think they could at least put a chair in the stupid things. I hate playing standing up.” 

Marinette giggled as he turned on the TV and started up the game. A piece of paper taped to the side of the TV fluttered in the breeze and she leaned to the side. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I forgot that was there,” Luka said, reaching around to pull off the paper. “I guess you could call it my goal poster. Not as fancy or as detailed as yours, but…” He shook his head slightly, handing her an ad from a music store with a picture of an electric guitar. “That’s my dream girl.” 

“Wow,” Marinette said rather blankly.

Luka chuckled as he took it back from her. “I know it probably doesn’t look like much to you, but trust me, she’s worth it. They’re going to start throwing me out of the shop if I don’t buy her soon, I’ve been in there playing the demo so often. She’s just got such a sleek body and a great sound, she’s absolutely gorgeous.” 

Marinette couldn’t contain her giggles any longer. “I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I don’t mean to make fun of you, it’s just the way you talk about it is funny to me. I’m not belittling your passion, I promise. Did you buy that one the last time?” She nodded toward the case he’d set aside when she arrived.

“Ah, no, that one’s actually my mom’s,” Luka said, sticking the paper back onto the side of the TV. “My mom never gets rid of _anything_ , least of all an instrument, so she’s got a bunch of different models she lets me use, but...” He sighed, his lips tightening slightly. “It’s not the same as having my own. It’s...hard to explain.” 

“I think I get it, sort of,” Marinette shrugged slightly. “Different machines have a different feel even when they’re all doing the same stitch. You find one you’re comfortable with, you stick with it. It’s probably even more true with instruments, I imagine.” She blushed and brushed back some stray hair that the breeze was whipping into her face. “I mean, I’m not a musician, so maybe I should just shut up.”

“No,” Luka smiled, and her heart fluttered at the softness in it. “It’s okay. Even if you don’t quite get it, it means a lot that you try to understand.” He threw himself back in his chair and gave her a lopsided grin that was more guarded. “So do you hate me now that you know you’re trying to fund your dream and I’m just trying to do what I love?”

“Of course not,” Marinette said in surprise. “If you’re a better player than me, you should win. It’s not about deciding whose intentions for the prize money are the most worthy. It’s a game, not a grant application. I’ll make my dreams happen another way. Winning just makes it easier.” She dared a wink of her own and felt a thrill of satisfaction when a more genuine grin took over and his shoulders lowered slightly. She hadn’t realized he was tense until that moment, but he was visibly more relaxed now. Feeling brave, she quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re thinking small, though. Surely you don’t need the whole prize pot to pay for one guitar. I hope you’ve got plans for the rest.”

“I do,” he said simply, and Marinette felt a stab of guilt as he tensed up again. Now that she knew what to look for it was easy to see. She shouldn’t have said that. She remembered how she’d felt when he pressed her about her plans. It had felt invasive and intimidating, even though she had nothing to be ashamed of. She fell back on what had always worked to deflect the deeper conversations. 

“Well, whatever your plans are, I’m sure they’ll be great,” she said brightly, and then smirked at him. “Or they would have been, if it weren’t for me. You’re still going down, Viperion.” 

That worked, as he grinned back at her. “We’ll see, Ladybug,” he said, sitting back into his chair. “Well. For now we’re on the same side, so—ready to kick some ass or what?” 

Marinette grinned. “I’m always ready.” 

They were definitely better this time than they had been the last, more in sync. They discussed and made adjustments and Marinette was feeling very encouraged at their prospects when Luka threw his arms up with his victory whoop at a particularly difficult victory, and the familiar sound of tearing fabric hit her ears.

Luka’s tired old hoodie, it seemed, had finally had enough. He cursed softly, inspecting the damage along one shoulder. It was a pretty bad tear on a seam that was clearly already weak. “I guess it had to go sometime…” Luka sighed. “I was really hoping I’d get a little more wear out of it—” Marinette snorted, as it looked like he’d gotten plenty of wear out of it to her, but Luka ignored her. “I got it in Scotland when we were visiting family,” he continued. “It’s my favorite.”

“By the looks of it you’ve worn it every day since,” Marinette observed dryly, folding her arms.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Luka said reluctantly, pulling the hoodie off and regarding it with sad, fond affection that both tugged at her heart and made her want to laugh. “I guess it’s paid its dues.”

Marinette sighed and dropped her head back, rolling her eyes. “Oh my God, fine, stop with the kicked puppy look, give it here.” 

“Huh?” Luka looked up at her. 

“Give it to me, I’ll fix it,” Marinette said, with a wry smile. “You big baby.” 

Luka’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Really, you think you can fix it? I’d hate to give it up, I’ve had it forever.” 

“Obviously,” Marinette snorted as he handed over the hoodie. She examined the torn seam, and then the other seams. “All of these need reinforcement,” she commented, and saw Luka’s face fall as she looked up. “It’s okay, I can do it,” she said, with some amusement. “If you trust your beloved pile of rags to my possession. I don’t deny the urge to chuck it overboard is strong. Do you want the repairs to show or should I try to hide them?” 

“I don’t mind if it shows,” Luka said, ruffling his hair. “But whichever is faster. I know how to sew a button back on but that’s it so whatever you say works for me. Are you sure you want to do it now? We’re supposed to be practicing and I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“It won’t take that long and we’re due for a break anyway,” Marinette shrugged. She draped the hoodie over her shoulder and picked up her purse, pulling out a small (well...small _ish_ ) plastic box and handing it to him. “Pick a color.”

“Wow, you carry this stuff with you all the time?” he asked, opening the box and looking at the neatly arranged contents. He deliberated a moment and then selected a spool. 

Marinette took the kit back and pulled out a needle and a pair of folding scissors. “Really?” she said, holding up the spool of bright red thread. 

Luka shrugged and grinned. “That way I’ll think of you. I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid, but it’s kind of what you said about putting a piece of yourself in the things you make. If you’re doing that for me, I don’t want it to be invisible.”

Marinette’s face turned as red as the thread in her hand, she was certain, and she was equally certain that Luka saw, with the way his grin widened and he averted his eyes, trying to pretend that he wasn’t holding back laughter. Marinette’s eyes narrowed slightly in both annoyance and sudden suspicion. “When did I say that?” 

Luka froze—just an instant, but Marinette caught it. “Ah—on your instagram,” he replied in a way that would have sounded completely casual if she hadn’t seen that quick moment of...whatever. “Your business instagram was on your poster,” he added, shrugging one shoulder. “I told you I love your team gear, so I checked it out on the subway ride home. Just for something to do.”

Marinette hummed an affirmative, the corner of her mouth quirking up. 

Luka glanced at her. “Your work is really amazing, actually. I didn’t have time to look through very much but I loved what I saw.” 

Marinette flashed him a quick smile, trying not to let on how many butterflies it felt like she’d swallowed in the last two minutes. “Thanks.” 

The pause that followed was slightly awkward as Luka ran his finger through his turquoise locks and added, “Anyway, I owe you big, thanks for doing this. Above and beyond, even for a teammate.”

“Please, you’re already helping me out, this is the least I can do,” she snorted, and then she dared to dart a smile at him. “Play for me while I work and we’ll call it even,” she added as she sat down and arranged the hoodie in her lap. 

“Really, you want me too?” He sounded so happy, Marinette was afraid to look at him. She firmly told the butterflies to settle down and waited until she was sure her voice would be steady before she answered. “Yeah, I’d love to hear it. You sounded really good before.” She shrugged one shoulder. “A little bit of you for a little bit of me, right?” 

“Well all right then,” he said, still grinning as he went to get his guitar. “Sounds like a fair trade to me.” 

Instead of going back to his perch in the sunshine he sat down in the deck chair next to her, and true to his word, he played while she sewed, occasionally asking if she had a preference, but she just shook her head. “You pick,” she said around the needle clamped between her lips as she unspooled and cut a length of thread. 

She glanced to the right only once and nearly stabbed herself with her needle at the sight of Luka’s bare arms moving as he played _Stairway to Heaven_ , too absorbed in the music to notice her choking on her own spit, thankfully. Penchant for video games aside, Luka clearly led an active lifestyle and his arms were toned and defined without having the bulk of somebody who worked at getting that way, and that subtle swell of muscle was more than enough to send her thoughts scattering to the wind. She’d managed to keep her eyes on the game when he’d been in her room, but now, with nothing but her sewing to distract herself, and Luka absorbed in his music...Marinette sighed. As if she needed him to be any more attractive.

Fortunately Marinette was more than capable of sewing with only half of her brain online. She fixed her eyes on the fabric and resolved not to look at Luka again. She failed only once, glancing up as he suddenly sang softly, “ooh, it makes me wonder…” She met his eye and the soft look and the crooked smile he gave her as he added, “it really makes me wonder…” made her drop her gaze again, hoping he wouldn’t see the blush rising to her cheeks. He chuckled and fell silent again, focusing on his guitar again.

Her foot tapped and her head began to bob along with his as he moved into the more energetic part of the song, and Marinette couldn’t help but think this was nice. It was nice, sewing here while he made music, with the gentle rock of the boat and the open air and fabric in her hands.

A few songs later, he was playing a Jagged Stone song when Marinette caught herself singing along and stopped abruptly, glancing quickly at Luka as she felt her face go hot. 

“Don’t stop,” he grinned at her. “You sounded great.” 

Marinette snorted. “Would you want to sew one of these seams in front of me?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

Luka laughed that unrestrained laugh again and she tried not to feel too pleased about it. “Point taken,” he chuckled. “But really, it was good.” 

Marinette made a small noise that was neither agreement or disagreement and focused back on her task. Luka played a tune she didn’t know for a while, and Marinette fell back into her easy rhythm with the needle.

“It relaxes you, doesn’t?” 

Marinette jumped. “S-sorry?” she said, glancing at Luka for just a moment. 

“Sewing relaxes you. Usually, you’re kind of…” He interrupted the calm melody he’d been playing to play something more energetic, more powerful, but also more tense. “But the longer you work on that you get more…” he lapsed back into the calm tune he’d been playing. 

“It does,” Marinette admitted. “Simple stuff like this, anyway.” She tried to change the subject. “I don’t know that song. The one you were playing just now.” 

“Yeah,” Luka smiled. “Me neither.” Marinette looked at him sharply, frowning. Luka shrugged. “I’m just messing around,” he told her. “Just, being here like this, hanging out with you. This is how it feels. It’s nice.” 

“Yeah,” Marinette agreed, smiling down at her flashing needle. “It really is.” She reached for her folding scissors but missed, and they clattered to the deck. “Ugh, could you grab those for me?” Marinette sighed as they skittered to a stop by Luka’s foot. When he didn’t answer, she glanced up and found Luka staring at her, much like he had the other day. Marinette raised her eyebrows. “Luka? Could you get my scissors?”

Luka jerked back into motion, setting the guitar aside as he reached down and scooped her scissors up off the deck. “Sorry, guess I spaced out for a second,” he muttered, cheeks pink as Marinette took the scissors and unfolded them to clip the thread. He didn’t quite meet her eyes as he took the hoodie she held out to him.

He looked pleased as he examined it, and Marinette felt a rush of pride. She’d used a slightly decorative stitch since he wanted it to show and it was a neat job if she did say so herself. Luka pulled it on, checked the damaged seam one more time, and then grinned at her.

“You’re the best, seriously. I can’t thank you enough.” 

“Yes, you can,” Marinette said, putting her sewing things away. “And you have. So let’s not worry about it any more. Break’s over and we have ass to kick.” She grinned at him and reached for his controller.

Luka laughed, sending another frisson of satisfaction through her, and put his guitar away, grabbing his controller as he sat back down. “Let’s do this.” She glanced over at Luka just in time to catch the roguish grin and wink he sent her way, and she could only pray he looked away before her face went _completely_ red. 

The sun was setting again when they finally decided to call it a day, congratulating each other on their mutual progress. 

“I think we’re really going to be ready,” Marinette grinned. “Team Lucky Charm coming in hot. It’s going to be epic.”

“No doubt,” Luka chuckled, and they shared a quick fist bump. 

“I should go,” Marinette said, glancing at the time and standing up to gather her few things. Luka got to his feet as well as she continued, “I think if we just practice online from here, we’ll—” 

“Luka, Maman said—,” called a mellow, rather low feminine voice behind them, much too softly to be Anarka. Luka and Marinette both turned and the speaker, a tall girl with a cascade of black hair and a face that Marinette found familiar despite the years that had passed, faltered. “Oh, sorry. She didn’t tell me you had company.”

“Juleka!” Marinette smiled, turning to face her properly. “It’s so good to see you. Wow, you look amazing! Oh, you—” She bit her lip. “You might not remember me, um, I’m...I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng? We went to school together back at...back at um…”

“I remember,” Juleka said quietly, tilting her head slightly. 

“Yeah? That’s great.” Marinette’s conversation with Luka earlier in the week flashed through her mind, and she pursed her lips for a moment, and then plunged. “Um,” she began, fidgeting a little. “We—it doesn’t have to be now, if you don’t want to, but, I, I was hoping maybe we could...talk? I mean I didn’t come here to talk but since I’m here, and...and you’re here, and there’s really some things I feel like I ought to say to you, and I...well...anyway, now’s good for me, but later would be good too, we could go grab a drink, I mean not a drink-drink, like orange juice or something, not if there’s anything wrong with it if you’d like a drink-drink, I just don’t usually—and the places that serve those drinks are so noisy anyway, and—” Marinette jumped as Luka’s hand came down on her shoulder and squeezed gently, and she stared at the deck, stomach churning and cheeks burning for far less pleasant reasons than they had been earlier. She glanced hesitantly up at Juleka. 

Juleka’s eyes seemed to flick between the two of them, but Marinette didn’t dare look up to see Luka’s expression. “Now’s good,” Juleka said finally, tilting her head slightly. “Come on, we can talk below.” Her eyes narrowed slightly at her brother. “You stay here.”

“Yes ma’am,” Luka chuckled. “Unless you were going to tell me that Mom wanted you to remind me to fix that hole in the rigging?”

Juleka looked surprised, and then sheepish. “Oh. Right.”

“I’ll get on it,” Luka said, making a shooing motion towards them. “You two go have your talk.”

When Marinette emerged from below the deck nearly an hour later, somewhat tearstained but smiling, Luka was coiling rope on the main deck. He glanced up at her and smiled, even as Marinette raised a self-conscious hand to wipe uselessly at her probably-ruined makeup. 

“Good talk?” he asked, and Marinette nodded. “Good. I hope you both feel better with the air cleared.” 

“I think we do,” Marinette said, still holding her hand uncertainly over her face. “Thanks for the push. Ugh, I must look a mess, I’m sorry, I should’ve found a mirror...” 

Luka shook his head. “You’re fine.” He beckoned her forward, and Marinette went to him. “You’ve got a streak right—” he reached out and wiped at the corner of her eye with his thumb gently. “There, that should be good enough for you to get home.” He added softly, “That was really brave, Marinette. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m glad you did.” His fingers brushed her cheek lightly as his hand fell away, making her breath hitch and he turned back to the ropes quickly. “I’ll see you at the tournament in a few days,” he said, looking back to smile at her briefly. 

“Y-yeah,” Marinette stammered, backing away, before fleeing across the gangway. She stopped just before she hit the bank and turned back, not wanting to leave on such a frazzled, cowardly note, or she’d never be able to face him at the tournament and all this work would be for nothing and she could _not_ let Max down that way. “Luka.” 

He jumped slightly before he looked up again, bringing one hand up to shield his eyes from the sun behind her. “Thanks for the music,” was all she could think of to say, but it was enough to let her smile at him and walk calmly down the steps with her head held high. 

Somewhere behind her she heard a soft, “Yeah, sure, anytime,” in a sort of blank voice, and she cringed a bit internally; he probably thought it was weird, after they’d already said goodbye, but it mattered to her, and so she took a deep breath and straightened her back and marched towards home with purpose.

Marinette had a bit of an internal crisis later that evening as she stood over her sewing machine and the project currently in pieces on it, fingering one diamond shaped piece of fabric as she remembered how much he loved his tattered old hoodie. She wondered whether she was overstepping. But, it was kind of too late now. She had to see this through. She couldn’t not finish it, not now. The vision was too clear and there wasn’t any repurposing the work she’d already done. She could always just...not give it to him, she supposed. It was still an option. Either way, though, there was no point quitting halfway through. Licking her lips and taking a deep breath to settle herself, she sat down at the machine, determined to finish what she started and worry about the rest later.


	5. Game On

Marinette had butterflies in her stomach for more than one reason when she arrived at the tournament venue. She paused in the bathroom to apply her makeup mask, and took her hoodie out of her bag, taking a deep breath before slipping it on over her shoulders. She pulled a couple of elastics out of the hoodie pocket and pulled her hair back into her signature pigtails, and the transformation was complete. She wanted to be perfect today. Not for Luka, who’d seen her through many competitions at this point, but for the attention she would inevitably garner with him as her partner. Their livestream would likely get a lot of views today, and she expected at least one video interview. 

She tapped a finger three times to her lucky earrings, the inspiration for her entire look, and took one more deep breath before nodded at her reflection, and packed her things back in her bag. She had her own matches to focus on before the team competition.

As much as she enjoyed playing him, and as much as she wanted another chance to beat him, especially now that she understood him a little better, Marinette was kind of glad that she wasn’t paired against Luka in this event. They would have managed, but it might have made things weird, and Marinette did _not_ need any more complications today. 

Besides, she admitted to herself with a grudging, lopsided smile as she put down her controller and left her pod after her final match, if she’d been paired with him she might not have swept her matches. So maybe it was just as well. It would be more satisfying to take him down in the playoffs anyway. 

Luka was already waiting for her when she got to the place where they were supposed to meet up, slumped back against a concrete pillar and scanning the crowd—presumably, for her. 

The butterflies got worse and Marinette reprimanded herself, taking a deep breath and blowing it out between black-painted lips. Of course he was looking for her, he was her teammate and they had agreed to meet here, and she needed to not be stupid about this. She needed to be _Ladybug_. 

She _was_ Ladybug and Ladybug did not freak out on competition day because of a _boy_ . No matter how inconveniently hot he was or the way his voice melted her or how much she wanted to know more about what he hid behind that damned lopsided roguish grin—no, she realized, a sudden image in her mind of the way it had looked when he flashed it at her on the boat. That damn _pirate grin_. 

Marinette shook herself slightly. Not thinking about that now. Definitely not thinking of him in a pirate’s loose shirt and tight pants. Those period dramas were never accurate in their fashion anyway. 

She was so doomed. Marinette made a little whine in her throat, throwing her hood up over her head for a second so that she could have a quick freakout to herself. 

“Come on, Ladybug,” the very smooth voice she’d been thinking about suddenly teased, and a hand tugged on the front of her hood. “It’s not that bad. We prepared. We’ll make it work.” She hadn’t known him that long but she’d recognize that little shoulder squeeze anywhere. 

“I’m fine,” she said, throwing the hood back and smoothing back her hair. “It’s fine, I’m chill.” 

Luka chuckled. “You are definitely not chill.” 

“Shut up,” Marinette grumbled, and fumbled her bag around to where she could dig in it. Anything to change the subject at this point. “Look, I, um...I have something for you, but I—I don’t want this to be weird, so don’t freak out, okay? It’s just this is a thing with us and it would look weird if you didn’t—so I—well. Here, I made this for you.” She shoved the bundle in his hands and stepped back. “Yours is dire, anyway, it offends me to look at it.” She eyed his ratty old hoodie, and to her chagrin, noted that her statement was less true than it had been since it now bore her red stitching at the seams. 

“Oh, we’re back to the tough guy talk now, huh?” Luka chuckled, his eyes on her face not helping her find her equilibrium again at all. “Guess I should have expected that.” 

“Yeah, you should have expected that,” Marinette shot back, folding her arms and cocking her hip. “I don’t mess around at game time.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, taking in the way his long fingers tapped against his leg, and though his posture was relaxed as always, now she could see the tightness around his eyes. And though she couldn’t put her finger on what was different, she sensed, too, a change in his energy, a tension and excitement that wasn’t there when he was truly calm and relaxed, like he had been in his home. “And you can’t fool me anymore,” she added. “Neither do you.” 

“Guilty,” he shrugged, smile widening. “I have to stay on my toes to keep up with you.” He reached out and tweaked one of her pigtails. “Not gonna lie, I’d have missed the tough talk anyway.” 

Marinette spluttered and Luka laughed at her before looking down at the bundle in his hands and starting to unfold it.

All the humor in his face faded away as he held up the hoodie. “Whoa…” he murmured, looking it over, and Marinette held her breath. The body of the hoodie was a deep green, with a diamond pattern in a turquoise that matched his hair and his mech down the outside of the sleeves. The same pattern went down the sides, but on a larger scale. 

“Cool,” he said, grinning at her—not his usual relaxed smile, but a full on grin that lit up his eyes, and crap, she hadn’t thought anything could hit her harder than the pirate grin and wink that he used so effectively, but she was wrong.

Marinette bit her lip. “Turn it around.” 

He did, and his jaw dropped. On the back was her grinning ouroboros design. “Holy shit,” he breathed, and Marinette’s stomach flipped over as that joyful grin got even wider.

“Language,” Marinette said mildly, inspecting her red nails as if she wasn’t hanging on his every word. “That’s a fine if the officials hear you, mister we-have-sportsmanship-guidelines-for-a-reason.”

“Worth it,” Luka muttered absently. “Marinette, this is... _way_ too much, I’m just a temporary team member—” 

“Oh, shut up,” she sighed, grabbing his arm a little less roughly than usual as she tugged him over to an abandoned table. “Look, you’re part of Team Lucky Charm now so just deal with it. And...let me do something nice for you to say thanks for helping me out without making me feel all embarrassed because I had a creative fit and went overboard. We’re a team, we need to look like a team. We need to _feel_ like a team.”

“Now what are we doing?” Luka asked, looking unphased by her manhandling as she shoved him into a chair. 

“Fixing your face,” Marinette said firmly. She dumped her makeup bag out on the table and rummaged through it, picking out a couple of different pieces. “The hoodie is just step one.” She held up a makeup palette. Luka looked at it, and then at the red and black mask across her eyes.

“I’m in your hands,” he grinned up at her. “Make me pretty.” 

Marinette snorted. “You have too many muscles to be pretty.” 

“You have muscles too, you’re still pretty,” Luka protested, pouting. "Why does pretty not get to have muscles?"

“Oh my God, shut up,” Marinette muttered, pouting as she felt her face turn ladybug red as she leaned in to get to work. “I hate you so much right now. Close your eyes.” 

“You know red is a nice color on you,” Luka chuckled, doing as she asked. 

“Stop making this weird,” Marinette huffed, continuing across the bridge of his nose.

“Why is it weird to think you’re prettier than me?” he asked, clearly amused. “You just said you couldn’t make me pretty, and you’re pretty even without the makeup, so—” 

“Stop calling me pretty!” Marinette snapped.

Luka sobered immediately. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to disrespect you.”

Marinette sighed. “I know,” she muttered. “I’m sorry, it’s just...I don’t get called pretty that often, not sincerely anyway, and you just did it like six times like it was nothing. Like you...meant it.” 

“Can I open my eyes for a second?” he asked. “This is a weird conversation to have when I can’t see you.” 

Marinette sighed, pulling her hands back. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Luka opened his eyes, and those intense, deep blue eyes staring at her from the dark shades of green she’d dusted across his face made her breath catch. “I know you get a lot of disrespect from the guys in these competitions,” he told her, his voice both quiet and low in a way that made her stomach quiver. “I can imagine that after a while it wears on you even when you know it’s not true. So, as a guy, let me just tell you, you are very pretty, and very smart, and a kickass gamer, and you have all the respect I can give you.” 

He closed his eyes again and Marinette numbly switched colors, dusting a lighter turquoise that matched his hair over his eyelids, willing her hands to stop shaking. “I won’t say it again if it upsets you,” Luka said quietly. “I just thought you should know. 

“It...it’s not that it upsets me exactly…” She added a couple of yellow streaks down from the bottom of the mask like fangs.

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t say it again.” Luka grinned, peeking one eye open. “Can’t have you rattled before the match.” 

“As if you could rattle me, Couffaine,” she scoffed with more bravado than she felt. 

He glanced down at the eyeliner pencil in her hand and plucked it away with two fingers. “I can do that part.” 

“Really?” Marinette said skeptically, handing him a mirror compact. “I’ll be pissed if you ruin all that work.”

Luka opened the mirror and gave her a sideways smirk without turning away from his reflection, which was just unfair as his profile was by far his best angle. “There’s _still_ a lot you don’t know about me, Ladybug.”

“Apparently,” Marinette grinned, propping her hands on her hips as she watched him line his eyes with a quick efficiency that she kind of envied, actually. Then he glanced up at her and stood up. 

“Here, come here, you could use a touch up,” he said, gesturing her towards the chair.

Marinette sat and Luka crouched in front of her, reaching for her face. “May I?” he asked before he touched her, and she nodded. He took her chin in his hand and began touching up the spots in her makeup mask. “You’re really something else,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then he seemed to shake himself and he asked, “You and Max do this before every competition?”

“Well, not like this,” she said, careful not to move. “Max doesn’t really do makeup, but he’s got those glasses, you know, the mirrored ones, and the horseshoe necklace, and the hoodie, you know.” She smiled ruefully. “Team Lucky Charm knows how to brand.”

“Somehow I feel like you have a lot to do with that,” he said, and though his grin wasn’t nearly as effective when he was distracted, Marinette still had to swallow with his face so close. “Have you ever thought of doing red lipstick instead of black?” 

Marinette blinked. “Not really. Max wears a lot of black so I went with black to tie us together a little more. Why?” 

“I just think it would look good on you. I mean, the black looks fine, it looks um...it looks good,” he paused and cleared his throat. “I just think the red would suit you.” He let go of her face and sat back on his heels. “There we go. Can’t have a ladybug walking around with faded spots.” He grinned at her, and Marinette couldn’t help smiling back. He was just so... _nice_. The real kind of nice, not the fake nice. He was just...he was a really good person and a sweetheart and cute and fun and his smile was so warm and...

Luka tilted his head. “What? Do I have something on my face?” 

Marinette blinked quickly. “Well, obviously,” she said, standing up a little too quickly. “That was the whole point of this exercise. Come on, we better, um…” 

“We’ve got time,” Luka said easily, but he rolled up to his feet. “Guess I better step up though.” He pulled his ratty old hoodie off, and Marinette was treated to a close-up view of the way his shoulders filled out his black t-shirt and the subtle swell of muscle in his arms before he slid on the fabric of the hoodie she’d made him. “Is this original art?” he asked, making a ridiculous face as he tried to peek over his shoulder. “Did you draw this?” 

“Yes,” Marinette said, momentarily forgetting his distracting hotness as she stepped up to settle the hoodie on his shoulders and make sure it hung properly. “It fits okay,” she murmured to herself, smoothing the sleeves down his arm. “Not bad, considering I had to guess your measurements.” She looked up at him and realized he was blushing beneath his green mask. “Oh God, sorry,” she said, jerking her hands back. “It’s just—I’m used to—I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have—I forgot it was you and not one of my clients.”

“I don’t mind,” Luka chuckled, but she swore his cheeks turned pinker, and there was something a little softer than usual in the way he smiled and oh God, she really needed to think about something else. She started to turn away but Luka caught her arm and turned her back for a moment. “Hey,” he said, and his usually strong voice had gone quiet, which was bad for her heart as it took on the velvety tone she had noticed mostly in his singing voice until now. “I just want to say thanks. This is a lot of work to go through for somebody who’s just filling in, and...well, I appreciate it. I’m sorry if I sounded too flip earlier, but I really do appreciate all the work you’re doing to make me a part of the team.”

Marinette could only blink at him for a moment. “You are part of the team,” she said, putting her hand on his arm and squeezing gently. Didn’t he know that? “You’ve acted like part of the team, you’ve done everything I asked. You could have just showed up on match day and filled in and I would still be thanking you. But you really came through and you worked with me and you listened to Max’s lectures and…” She pressed her lips together to stop her rambling, and took a breath, and said simply, “You’re part of the team, Luka. You’re absolutely part of the team. So don’t tell me this is too much, because it’s the least you deserve.”

It was his turn to blink at her, and he opened his mouth slowly, but nothing came out, and he just shut it again and shook his head slightly. “Thank you,” he said, meeting her eyes again. 

“We’ll be thanking each other all day at this rate,” Marinette said, unable to look away. “You’ve got your game face on, so. Let’s go, um. Go. Game.” Ugh she was so lame. 

“Uh, yeah,” he said, smiling—a different, softer smile than she was used to. “That sounds...pretty much like a plan to me.” He gestured vaguely. “After you?”

More than happy to have an excuse to end the awkward that seemed to plague her through her life, Marinette led the way to the team match hall. Before they could enter, someone called Luka’s name, and they both turned to find a guy in the tournament press team uniform hurrying towards them.

“Great, here come the sharks,” Luka said, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing. “I’m not sure if I’m sorry or not, we’ll have to decide later.”

“Publicity is good,” Marinette said, pasting on a smile that projected confidence, though the butterflies were acting up again. 

“Viperion, good to see you,” the man said, slapped his hand at Luka’s in a weird sort of bro handshake...thing—all one handed, as he was filming with some kind of tablet in the other. They were probably live, Marinette realized. “Changing up your look for the match today?” 

“Hey, Tim. Yeah, turns out Ladybug here’s a fantastic artist and designer,” Luka said, holding his arms out a little to show the diamond pattern. “Check it out,” he turned around, displaying the grinning ouroboros design on his back. “You should see the stuff on her Instagram page, man, it’s fantastic. Maybe I’ll commission something from her when I win the championship.” He nudged Marinette with his elbow, grinning.

Marinette responded almost automatically. “Psh, you wish,” she laughed. “You better start saving your pennies, Viperion, because coming in _second_ isn’t going to make your dreams come true.”

Tim looked back and forth between them curiously. “I see playing together hasn’t diminished your rivalry. You and Ladybug have been going head to head for weeks and it’s been a hotly contested match every time. How do you reconcile that with being teammates?” 

“Ladybug’s a fantastic player and a great sport,” Luka replied, putting a hand on Marinette’s back with just enough pressure to suggest that she step forward without compelling it. “We make a great team, but we both know that when we’re back to one-on-one...” Luka shrugged and grinned at Marinette. She smiled back and copied his shrug.

“May the best player win,” she finished for him, cocking an eyebrow with a wicked grin. 

“You’re currently listed as an alternate,” Tim said, looking at Luka again. “Does the wardrobe change mean you’re replacing Pegasus as a permanent team member?”

Marinette took the step forward. “Absolutely not,” she said, glancing quickly at Luka to make sure he wasn’t offended. He gave her a tiny nod and she continued. “Pegasus and I are partners and that won’t change. It’s nice to know though that we have backup we can count on when we need it. Viperion’s gone above and beyond to help us out and as far as I’m concerned, he’s part of the team and he should look like part of the team.”

“So Viperion, you’re just a temp?” Tim asked. 

Luka and Marinette shared a smirk. “I’m a threat,” Luka— _Viperion_ said, giving the camera a wicked smirk that made Marinette’s knees go a little weak. “The competition better watch out because Team Lucky Charm is coming in hot.” He winked. 

_So hot_ , Marinette whined in her head, though she managed to keep her composure. If she blushed, hopefully no one would notice under her makeup.

“Well I think I can guarantee there will be a lot of eyes watching the, uh—augmented Team Lucky Charm tonight.” Marinette’s fingers curled into a fist at her side, and she felt Luka touch her back again. “One last question, Viperion, does this mean your dating hiatus is over?”

“Wow, Tim, it took you like a whole thirty seconds to go there,” Luka snorted. “No, it doesn’t. We’ll see you after the match, okay?” He turned and headed for the match hall, Marinette only a startled half-step behind him. 

“Thanks for your time, Viperion, it’s a pleasure as always,” Tim called. Luka looked back at him with raised eyebrows and Tim hastily added, “And Ladybug.”

Luka snorted and shook his head as they walked away. His hand twitched towards Marinette’s arm but he didn’t touch her. “You okay?”

“ _I’m_ fine,” she said, looking at him. “Are you?” 

“Yeah,” Luka sighed, “Just annoyed. I hate it when he gets personal like that. And I told him that in confidence, he was only supposed to report that I don’t have a girlfriend. I, um—” He glanced at Marinette and cleared his throat. “I had a bad breakup and I’ve been staying away from the dating thing until I had my head on straight. It just—I don’t want you to think I—” 

This time Marinette took _his_ arm and squeezed it. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it. Especially now, like this, I mean—n-not that you have to talk to me at all I just meant—if you _want_ to, or if you need somebody to listen, I just meant...I mean I’m here. For you. Not... _for_ you for you like he was thinking, but I mean...you’re my...my friend.” The word tasted like ash in her mouth, bitter with memories, and she swallowed as she let go of him. 

He only had time to say “thanks,” before they were at the check in and being ushered off to their places, but his hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed, and lingered.

They endured the rest of the usual pre-match whirlwind and finally they were shut into their pyrapod, the noise of the tournament sealed out, and they both took a relieved breath. 

“Well,” Luka said, rubbing his hands absently on his thighs before he reached for his controller. “Here goes nothing, right?” His voice was tense and Marinette reached out on instinct and grabbed his hand.

“Hey,” she said, squeezing tight. “We’re good. We worked hard, we did our best to get ready, and we had fun, right? We’ve got this. Even if we lose, I won’t have any regrets.” 

“Yeah,” Luka said, and his fingers closed over hers to squeeze back. “Me neither.”

“Just relax,” Marinette said, to herself as much as him as the match countdown began. “Leave everything else outside. Play the game. We got this.” She let go of his hand and there was no more time for talking; they put on their headsets and picked up their controllers and then it was on. 

They were a little stiff at first, Luka a bit jumpy and Marinette going a bit harder than necessary, but by the end of that first match they’d found their footing. Luka’s nervousness morphed into eager anticipation and Marinette began to relax into the teamwork and let Luka take his share of the load. Marinette was a little afraid that Luka had been rattled by the question outside, but when the taunting started, which included the inevitable thinly veiled suggestions that their partnership came with _benefits_ , Luka kept his cool and let Marinette handle it until the match got heated and the insults got more direct. Luka finally snapped, “Hey Ref, what the fuck, are you asleep? Did you read your own handbook, this is bullshit.” It earned him a fine but the official monitoring the channel was quicker to intervene after being publicly called out on livestream. 

It wasn’t a sweep but it was close. Even for the matches they lost, Marinette had no complaints; they’d fought for every one and when the screen finally went dark, she had a satisfied smile on her face, though her ears still rang from Luka’s victory cry. 

Beside her Luka breathed in deeply, and all the buzzing, excited energy that had filled him as they played seemed to fade from him as he blew it out. “That was intense,” he said, one hand finding her shoulder and squeezing lightly. “We did good, right? You’re happy?”

“We did great,” Marinette smiled, and in the privacy and semi-darkness of the pod, she actually found the courage to lean into his side and slip one arm around his waist in a half hug. “You really stepped up, Luka. I know I said thank you already but, you really bailed me out and you did great. I’m happy to have had you as my partner, even for a little while.”

His hand slid slowly from her near shoulder across her back to the far one, and he squeezed her back gently. “Thanks. You made it pretty simple, honestly.” He sighed. “They’re probably going to want another soundbite when we leave.”

Marinette nodded and pulled away, reaching back to tug the elastics out of her hair and redo her pigtails. “One last opponent to take down,” she sighed, and Luka chuckled. 

“Nothing we can’t handle,” he said, sticking his hands in his hoodie pockets. 

“You know it,” Marinette said, holding out a hand for a fist bump before realizing his hands weren’t available, and awkwardly dropping hers just as he pulled one out to meet it. She groaned and Luka laughed, pulling her into a loose hug and patting her back lightly. “It’s fine. Come on.” 

They emerged from the pod with grins that were maybe a bit bigger than the camera-ready, professional smiles they had intended, but it didn’t matter. Tim grabbed Luka as soon as they were clear of the pod—literally, grabbing Luka’s arm and dragging him off to the side. Marinette followed and heard Tim saying, “—viewer numbers on that match were incredible, and they only went up from there, I’ve never seen a jump that big—” 

“You mean to tell me that having a hot girl on camera boosted your viewer ratings?” Luka said dryly. “Who knew. And then they went _up_ after they saw how much ass she kicked? You’re kidding. It’s like some people actually find competent women really attractive or something.” Marinette froze, face reddening. “I’m telling you, Tim, you’re wasting your time on me. There’s your money face.” Luka tipped his head toward Marinette. “Have you watched her play? Her mind is just, it’s amazing the stuff she can come up with on the fly. I’ve watched every one of her matches and they’re crazy entertaining. If you’re not paying attention to her they should be questioning whether you’re qualified for this job.” 

As Luka spoke Tim’s mouth dropped open slightly and he turned his eyes slowly on Marinette and she could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears as the wheels started turning in his brain. “Ladybug,” he said quickly, approaching her and pulling a card out of his pocket. “Hey, I just have time for a quick photo op right now with you two but I’d really like a chance to interview you before the next round. This rivalry you’ve got going with Viperion, it was already good stuff, but people are really interested now that they’ve seen you together.” 

Marinette drew one of her own business cards out of her pocket and cooly agreed that they could talk. She and Luka went where they were told and posed together. She didn’t really feel like smiling at the moment, but Luka caught her hand and squeezed it for just an instant.

“We did it,” he murmured. “Don’t let their crap take that away from you, okay? Forget all this publicity bull. It’s about the game, and we played it well.”

“Right,” she whispered back. “You’re right. We did. We played it really well.” He grinned at her and she grinned at him and then they both gave their best game time smirks to the camera. 

“Sorry,” he muttered as they walked away. “I didn’t mean to volunteer you for anything, it’s just...that’s been bugging me for a long time, and I guess I was still annoyed about earlier, and I just kind of let him have it. Are you going to the afterparty thing, or…?”

“No,” Marinette shook her head. “I’m going to head over and let Max know how it went. He’s doing a lot better now, I’m sure he watched the whole thing and he’s going to want to talk about it. I think he’d feel less left out if I went straight over there.” 

“When you put it that way I wish I could too,” Luka said, “but I have another commitment I have to get to after this.”

They walked together out of the conference hall and down the street until Marinette stopped in front of the metro station. “This is me,” she said, nodding to the subway entrance. 

“I’m going a different way, so…” Luka leaned his weight onto his heels, ready to step back. “I guess this is it for a while. I’ll see you in the next competition.” He grinned. “You can bet I’ll be practicing so you don’t come in and curb stomp my ass cause I got lazy. Tell Max I wish you both the best, okay?” He started to turn away, and Marinette caught his arm.

“Hey,” she said, looking up at him. “You’ll still be there cheering for us, right?” She smiled and hoped it didn’t look too manic as she let go of him. “Didn’t I tell you? Once you’re one of us, you’re one of us for life.”

Luka gave her a slow grin that made her insides feel like jelly. “You didn’t tell me, actually. Seems like the kind of thing you ought to warn a guy about before he signs up.” 

“Oops,” Marinette said airily, raising her hands and hoping they weren’t shaking. “Too bad. You’re Team Lucky Charm for life now.” 

“That—” Luka paused and looked away, running his fingers through his hair before he looked back at her. “That actually makes me really happy, Marinette. I’m kind of a loner and...well, it’s been a while since I was part of something I could be proud of.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened and she was sure she looked as shocked as she felt. “But you’re so nice,” she blurted out. “I mean, everybody likes you, you have friends all over the place…”

Luka shrugged. “Friends I only see at tournaments. I mean, I do have some good friends, but here people think I’m cool because I win but I know most of them would drop me like a hot rock the second I started losing. Some of them already have, actually.” 

Marinette’s throat tightened up at that. He was too nice to say it, but it was because of her, she was sure. Because he was playing with her. She opened her mouth but just looked down, not sure what to say.

“I was in a band, for a while,” Luka continued, either not noticing or tactfully ignoring her sudden inability to form words. “But life happened and we all had to move on, and...I miss that. Feeling part of a group. So thanks for giving it to me, even if all I’m doing from now on is cheering on the sidelines. You ever need someone to step in again, you call me, okay? You’ve got my number now.” 

“Yeah,” Marinette said, her hand automatically going to her pocket to grip her phone. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Alright, well, I’ll see you around Ladybug,” Luka said, backing away a couple of steps. 

Time froze for a second. It wasn’t like she’d never see him again; they’d still get matched up and play and they’d still probably meet up in the tournament but Marinette had felt this way before, and she knew, she _knew_ , that if she let this moment pass, it would be like had been with Adrien. All the closeness and camaraderie they had built up would fade away, and she and Luka would drift apart, back into that lightly teasing but still mostly professional banter they had enjoyed before. It would be fine and they would be friendly and she’d be left wondering _what if_ for the rest of her life. Or worse, trying desperately to save what could have been with a too-late confession that would be awkward and embarrassing and ultimately futile.

Yeah, no thanks. She didn’t want that. She didn’t. She remembered briefly her conversation with Juleka, where she had promised that she wasn’t that person anymore, that she was stronger, braver, able to stand up for herself and others. 

Marinette didn’t want any of that to be a lie.

She didn’t want to lose Luka.

Marinette took one quick step forward. “Luka.” 

Luka stopped moving, and Marinette took another couple of steps towards him. 

“If I, um...If I wanted to use your number some other time,” she said, looking anywhere but at him, aware that she was blushing. “Maybe if I just wanted some company, or someone to s-see a movie with, would...would that be okay?” She bit her lip, forcing herself to meet his eyes. 

He didn’t move for a second, and Marinette began to quietly panic on the inside, that maybe she’d been too blunt, or not blunt enough, or maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe she was crazy and this moment hadn’t meant anything. Maybe she was imagining everything that had passed and he wasn’t into her and now she looked like a desperate, lovesick idiot. Again.

“Yeah, definitely,” he finally said, and the smile on his face was one that she’d never seen on him before. “I’d like that. I’d love that, actually. Sometime. Anytime. Whenever.” He shut his mouth with a look on his face that she was very familiar with, the _oh God why can’t I shut up look_ , and she couldn’t help a smile. It was kind of nice to be on the receiving end of that one instead of the one panicking.

“Okay then,” Marinette said, smile growing, genuine and happy. “I’ll text you. Sometime. Or you can text me, if you feel like it. Whichever.” 

“Cool,” he said, and Marinette’s smile might have slid into a smirk at the way he was blushing. In fact he seemed to be growing pinker by the second. “I’ll talk to you soon then.” 

He turned and walked away quickly, and Marinette watched him go with a sensation not unlike chugging three cans of Red Bull in a row. She turned around and walked three steps calmly before letting out a little squeal and running the rest of the way to the train platform, ignoring the guard that shouted at her. 


	6. Teamwork Makes the Dream Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. First of all, this chapter is a monster, and I couldn't find a good place to break it, so...I recommend a bathroom break and a beverage and maybe even a snack for this one.
> 
> Second, I met some really wonderful people through the Lovebugs and Snake Charmers exchange earlier this year, and we've kept in touch, and you have no idea what they put up from me this week, and I am both really sorry and super grateful. You guys are the best ever and I am super grateful for all of you dealing with needy Quick this week (and last week. and pretty much all the weeks). They're always supportive but they really went above and beyond while I was losing my mind this week, so: love you guys so much!!
> 
> Luka naming his instruments is also a bit of an in-joke from LBSC and coming up with the names was a group effort but it worked well for what I was doing here so I ran with it.

“Marinette.” 

Marinette’s head snapped up. “Hmm?” 

Kagami smiled knowingly at her across the table. “The last time you were this distracted for one of our juice dates, it was because of Adrien.”

Marinette flushed and she tried to find something to say, but whatever words she would have found drowned in a flood of guilt and embarrassment, without ever touching the happy flutter in her stomach. What came out of her mouth instead was a garbled rush of sound as she flailed her hands widely in a reflexive _deny! deny!_ gesture that never, ever worked. 

Kagami cocked an eyebrow. 

Marinette deflated slightly and tried to deflect. “I’m so sorry, Kagami, here you just got back and I haven’t seen you in ages, you’re right, let me just put my phone away and—” 

The fencer’s hand flashed out and snatched the phone off the table before Marinette could grab it and stuff it out of sight. 

Marinette gaped at her friend, and then pouted, and then her eyes widened as the phone signaled a new message. She gave Kagami a pleading look.

The second eyebrow rose to join the first and a clearly amused expression replaced Kagami’s normal stoicism. “That serious, is it?” 

Marinette slumped in her chair. “Kagami,” she whined, holding out her hand. “Please?”

“Of course, Marinette,” Kagami smiled, handing over the phone. “But I would very much like to see a picture.” 

“Of who?” Marinette asked, taking the phone back and holding it to her chest, but unable to resist a peek to see the message alert.

“Of whoever’s making you smile like that,” Kagami said, hiding a smile of her own behind her glass of juice. 

Marinette blushed. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” she mumbled, but Kagami just quirked up an eyebrow. Marinette sighed, and pulled up a picture of Luka on the UMS league website. She hovered over a recent photo, of him as Viperion in his Team Lucky Charm Hoodie and makeup, but chose instead a slightly older photo. She handed her phone over to Kagami, feeling her blush deepen. “His name is Luka,” she said. “I told you a bit about him.”

Kagami’s eyebrows rose further as she studied the picture. “You did. Although you spoke of him more as a rival than a love interest.”

“He was a rival. _Is_ a rival,” Marinette amended. “Though we’re getting more even lately.” She felt a little bit guilty about that, actually. She probably wouldn’t have caught up with him so quickly if she hadn’t gotten to study his playing style so closely, but it couldn’t be helped. Luka had known the risk and chosen to help her anyway, and it wasn’t something she could turn off or ignore, so she just chose to be grateful. 

“But he’s more than that now?” Kagami smirked at her. “Marinette. Rivals turned lovers? How romantic.”

“We’re _not_ lovers,” Marinette huffed, turning up her nose slightly. 

“But you want to be,” Kagami suggested, her lips still curled up in a smile that Marinette kind of wanted to smack off her face.

“Kagami!” Marinette sighed in exasperation. “Even if I wanted to, it sounds like it’s not a good time.” 

“Marinette,” Kagami said, leaning forward and putting a hand on her arm. “Haven’t you learned yet that nothing good happens when you hesitate?”

Marinette pursed her lips, feeling a cold knot in the pit of her stomach. “This isn’t like that. I’ve done better this time, but...I can’t push him if he’s not ready.”

“Have you asked him if he’s ready?” Kagami asked, tilting her head slightly. “Or are you making assumptions?” 

Marinette opened her mouth and closed it again. It was true that she hadn’t ever directly addressed the issue with Luka. It had taken a lot of courage for her to text him the day after the match, but she had done it, and they’d been talking off and on ever since. Marinette was worried at first about texting him too much, but her confidence grew when he texted her first just as often. 

“He said he was taking a break from dating,” Marinette shrugged, and Kagami sat back, studying her. 

“But you haven’t told him how you feel.” 

Marinette blushed. “Not in so many words, no. He’s perceptive, though. Not like—” She broke off and Kagami looked away. The two girls were silent for a moment, suddenly very interested in their juice. “I’m not that good at hiding it,” Marinette finally mumbled. “He has to know, at least a little bit.” At least as much as she knew, enough to suspect she wasn’t completely indifferent to him. Just like she suspected he wasn’t completely indifferent to her. 

“That’s an assumption, Marinette,” Kagami said at last. “As long as you don’t tell him, he can pretend he doesn’t know and he doesn’t have to make a decision. It leaves him free to flirt with you as long as he wants without committing. Then when you finally do confess, what happens? He can say that he told you he wasn’t ever interested in dating and pretend that all your flirting meant nothing. Be. Direct.” She tapped her fingernail against her glass with the words. “Don’t give him room to hurt you.” 

Marinette winced. “That’s a really dark view of things, Kagami.”

Kagami shrugged. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Marinette. You don’t have to push him, just let him know the option is there, and see what happens. We both spent much too much time on someone who was never going to return our feelings. I don’t want to see it happen again.”

“It won’t,” Marinette smiled at her phone, where a new message notification popped up. “Luka’s not like Adrien. And I’m not that person anymore, either. Thanks for the advice, Kagami, but...I don’t think I’m ready to be that direct just yet.” 

Kagami sighed, but smiled. “Whatever you think is best, Marinette.” She shook her head. “Come on, let’s get on with party planning. Mother hardly ever lets me have one, and I want to make it a good one.” 

Marinette grinned, sending a quick text to Luka to let him know she’d talk to him later, and pulled a notebook stuffed full of post-its out of her bag. “Okay, here’s what I’ve been thinking so you can get what you want without your mother vetoing the whole thing.”

* * *

Marinette did think about Kagami’s words off and on for the next few weeks, but all it seemed to do was underline how _different_ liking Luka was. She’d had post-Adrien crushes, but nothing approached the intensity and endurance of what she’d felt for the blond model; nothing that she actually cared to do anything about. Nothing, until Luka. Yet, even liking Luka as much as she did, this was different. When she talked to him outside of the competition, she was excited and fluttery and yes, embarrassed and nervous, but she wasn’t paralyzed. She wasn’t terrified. She was _hopeful_. And she didn’t know if it was that she really was braver, or if it was something about Luka himself that was the difference.

It didn’t really matter. It only mattered that Marinette was excited to hear from him, comfortable talking to him, and the only time her breath got short or her stomach turned over or she felt like screeching and throwing her phone across the room was when she said something a little more daring than usual, and it always subsided as soon as he responded in kind. 

Luka _always_ responded in kind. Whatever tone she set, he seemed happy to meet it, unless she was putting on a tone of false cheer. Somehow, he always seemed to know, and he’d let her talk it out if she felt like it, or try to improve her mood if she didn’t. She hoped she did the same with him, but even now she wasn’t sure how well she could read him. He was honest and direct almost to a fault, but it still felt like he was closed off somehow. It was...frustrating.

Still, there was something to Kagami’s words. Marinette really did need to tell Luka how she felt about him, even if he didn’t want to date anyone right now. She needed him to know. She just...wasn’t sure how. Or when. Marinette was actually incredibly busy just at the moment, between school, her commission work, and the tournament. She even had to ask Luka to take her place in one of the team matches so that she could rush back after the solo competition to sit for an exam she had to make up. That was the first time he’d called her instead of texting. Max asked him too, he told her, because Max “had something else to do” and they knew she’d want to hear how the tournament went right away. Then he asked about her exam before he even told her anything about the tournament, and they’d talked for over an hour. 

They’d talked a few more times since then, usually when texting was inconvenient. Luka, it seemed, liked to have his guitar in his hands more than his phone, and she enjoyed hearing it in the background when he called her. She learned a lot during those chats. She learned that he could play drums and bass as well as guitar, that his eccentric best friend had gotten him into gaming before he moved back to Australia, and that Luka was taking some university courses in business and a few other seemingly random things but he was only a part-time student. The rest of the time he worked in a music studio as “an entry level grunt,” in his own laughing words.

Marinette told him how she got into design, and started building her business, more about what she hoped to achieve, and how she and Max almost hadn’t been paired together for their first tournament but she was glad things had worked out the way they had. 

Texting had been nice but she loved the smooth sound of his voice no matter what mood he was in. She never quite got up the courage to ask him to video chat but it almost didn’t matter; she was learning that his voice was more expressive than his face. It was smooth and pleasant when he was relaxed, taught and energetic when he was excited, and she knew whether he was in public or by himself by the way he chuckled quietly or let his laugh ring out. And when he teased her, it went deep in a way that sent pleasant shivers sparking through her.

One night he called her much later than she was used to hearing from him. 

“Hi,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Sorry for calling so late.”

“It’s okay, you know I’m always up late,” Marinette said, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down on her desk so she could go back to the project she was working on.

“You and me both,” Luka chuckled, and Marinette smiled.

“So we might as well be keeping each other company,” she said as casually as she could manage. “Anything on your mind?”

“Not really,” he said. “I guess I just wanted to talk to you.” 

Marinette was glad she didn’t have to hide her pleased smile. “You’re not playing your guitar,” she observed.

“Don’t feel like it tonight. I just want to hear your voice.” Marinette froze for a moment, and Luka continued quickly, “What are you working on?” 

Blushing and a little scattered thanks to the way her heart was suddenly racing, Marinette’s answer wasn’t very coherent, which led to him teasing her and her sassing him back, and Marinette was both pleased and horrified when they finally hung up and she looked at the time, his velvety “Goodnight, Marinette,” still ringing in her ears. 

Even so, they still never saw each other outside of tournaments, and Marinette wasn’t sure how to change that, or if Luka even wanted it to change. 

She was nervous, therefore, as she walked onto the Couffaines’ boat with her longtime friends Rose and Mylène in tow, afraid she was intruding where she wasn’t wanted. 

But Juleka lived here too, and Marinette had also been texting quite a bit with her, and Juleka had finally decided to let Marinette reintroduce her to some of the friends she had lost touch with when she changed schools. Marinette had introduced her to Kagami already, since Kagami hadn’t come to their school until after Juleka had transferred. She’d been a little worried at that first meeting because Kagami could come off blunt and harsh at first, but the two shared a dry sense of humor and a tendency not to say more than necessary, so they got along well enough, in a quiet sort of way that mostly meant letting Marinette chatter on. (Marinette’s second big concern about introducing them also proved groundless; other than a slight raise of her eyebrows at finding out that Luka was Juleka’s brother, Kagami had been mercifully silent on the subject of Marinette’s crush.) 

Marinette had broached the subject of meeting some of their old friends with some trepidation, knowing Juleka was miles improved in confidence but still sensitive about those days. Juleka had taken her time to consider and finally agreed to give it a try. Juleka was the most comfortable on the boat, so Marinette brought her two least intimidating friends to the boat to hang out and maybe watch a movie. 

Juleka was waiting for them, pacing nervously on deck. Marinette opened her mouth to greet her as they crossed the gangplank, but Rose shrieked, “Juleka!” and shoved her way past Marinette to throw her arms around Juleka’s neck. “You got so _tall!_ Oh I’m so happy to see you again. Look at you, you’re so beautiful! I’m so happy!” Rose bounced on her toes, beaming up into Juleka’s startled and blushing face.

“Rose,” Mylène chided, tugging her sleeve. “Let her breathe before you deafen the poor girl. Besides, I want a turn.” She took Juleka’s hands and smiled up into her face. “It’s good to see you again Juleka. I’m so glad you found your peace.”

Juleka, blushing beet red after Rose’s onslaught, just nodded and tucked her hair back. “Downstairs?” she asked shyly, and a still-bouncing Rose latched onto her arm and cheered for her to lead the way. 

Marinette hung back a little bit, looking at the lanky figure sprawled in a deck chair, facing mostly away from them. She jumped at the touch on her arm and found the other girls were already downstairs and Juleka had come back for her. 

“He’s in the zone,” Juleka drawled, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, you won’t get any worthwhile conversation out of him. He’s been working on that song for a while and he’s finally had some kind of breakthrough the last couple of weeks.”

“He writes songs?” Marinette asked. 

Juleka gave her an odd look. “Yeah, constantly. He hasn’t played any for you? I thought you guys were talking a lot lately.”

“No,” Marinette shook her head. “I mean, we have been talking, but every time I’ve heard him play it was—well, it was amazing, but it was always a song I...knew...” She paused, remembering the last time she’d been here, on the boat, while she’d been mending his hoodie and he’d been playing his guitar. There had been a while there, where he’d played a tune she didn’t recognize. Just messing around, he’d said. She hadn’t thought much about it at the time, but now that she thought about it, it was the only time she’d heard Luka play something unique like that. 

She wondered what he was playing now as she glanced back one more time before she followed Juleka downstairs.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Marinette and Mylène emerged alone on deck, giggling at each other. Marinette startled slightly at the sight of Luka sitting on the deckboards facing them, legs crossed and fingers together in a meditation pose, his eyes closed as he breathed deeply. His body swayed slightly with the motion of the ship.

She started again at the hand on her arm, and Mylène smiled up at her with a knowing smile. “I’ll see you later,” Mylène told her, and walked off the deck alone, leaving Marinette staring there, clutching her purse strap and wondering distantly what Luka would do if she just crawled into his lap and kissed him and whether his hair was as soft as it looked, ruffling with the breeze. Marinette shivered as the wind cut across her skin; no wonder he always wore a hoodie. 

Banishing those thoughts with a quick shake of her head, she sighed quietly and adjusted her purse over her shoulder, biting her lip. She hated to leave without at least greeting him, but she didn’t want to disturb him either. She began to turn for the gangway.

“Hello, Marinette.” 

Surprised, she lost track of her limbs and her foot caught the edge of a crate, and she stumbled. She caught herself just in time and hung there for a moment, panting slightly, before straightening and turning to look at Luka. 

“Sorry,” Luka said, chuckling softly. His fingers were still curled together but his eyes were open and watching her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” His cheeks dimpled with his grin. “Again.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said breathlessly, sinking down weakly to sit on the crate she’d stumbled over. “What’s another random adrenaline rush in a day?” She brushed her hair back out of her face and smiled at his low velvet chuckle.

“Why are you sneaking off?” he asked, and Marinette blushed.

“Let’s just say I don’t think they’re going to notice we’re gone,” she smirked. “I guess they have a lot to catch up on. Rose is really not happy that Juleka didn’t keep in touch with her and Mylène and I started to feel like we, um...weren’t really necessary for the conversation.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Maybe Juleka would have made more of an effort if Rose wasn’t always gushing about Prince Ali,” he muttered under his breath, and then shook his head. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Marinette shrugged. “Rose was kind of...single-minded, back then.”

Luka’s smile was gentle this time. “We’re all that way at that age. I shouldn’t hold it against her.” 

Marinette made a noise of assent, staring at her feet with an embarrassed smile. “It’s cute the way you stand up for your sister though. I’m sorry for disturbing you, but I’m glad I got to say hi before I left.”

“You’re not disturbing me. I would have been disappointed to miss you.” He tilted his head toward the deck chair he’d abandoned. “I’d love to hang with you a bit if you’ve got some time.” 

Marinette smiled, and came to sit in the chair, and then paused. “Actually...I could join you? If that’s okay.” 

Luka’s eyebrows lifted. “You practice?”

“Not all that regularly, but sometimes. Mostly my mother does, and I do it with her sometimes. It’s a nice way to connect.” 

Luka gave a slow smile. “Then, yeah, if you’d like to. Make yourself comfortable. Wherever.” 

Marinette hesitated just a moment, and then took off her purse and set it in the chair, and moved around behind Luka to sit back to back with him. “Is this okay?” she asked, feeling his warmth behind her. “This is how I usually do it with my mom, but if you’re not comfortable—”

“No, it’s nice,” Luka said, and Marinette felt his back straighten behind her. She did the same, stacking her spine and folding her hands in her lap, and when she felt Luka breathe in, she did the same, focusing on the flow of energy through her body. 

After a few minutes, Luka broke the silence to ask quietly, “Did you get your exam grade back?”

Marinette smiled. “I did. Aced it. Honestly, I was worried, because it was really tough.”

“I knew you’d do great.” He said it with simple sincerity, and it gave Marinette a warm feeling. 

“Thanks for covering me,” she said after a moment. “You and Max did awesome, and it really helped me out.” 

“No problem,” Luka said, and she could hear his smile in his voice. “I’m glad I could help out. It was interesting, playing with Max.” Marinette grinned at his clear amusement. “He’s an interesting guy.”

“Very,” Marinette giggled. “He takes a while to get to know, but he’s wickedly funny when he wants to be.” 

“I noticed,” Luka chuckled. “Not much tolerance for people being dumb. It was cool to get to know him better. You’re lucky to have such a great friend.”

“I’m lucky to have a lot of great people in my life,” Marinette said, and then felt a blush rise as she heard herself. “A lot of friendships that have stood the test of time,” she hurried on, hoping he couldn’t feel how tense she’d become all of a sudden.

“You _are_ lucky,” Luka said. “Not a lot of people can say that.” She thought she felt him sigh softly as he said it.

Marinette swallowed. “One of my friends has been in Japan for the last couple of years,” she stumbled on, suddenly having no idea what she was saying. “She just came back and we’re having a party for her in a few weeks. You should come.” She opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight, and wondered what the hell she was thinking.

“Me?” he said, sounding a little confused.

“Sure,” Marinette said cheerfully, though her stomach felt like ice at his reaction. “Max will be there, and some of our other friends. Juleka too, actually, I gave her her invitation earlier. I can get one for you.”

She felt Luka shift behind her and moved away from him on instinct, climbing into the deck chair he’d indicated to her before as Luka turned to face her. 

“Invitation? What kind of party are we talking?” he asked.

“Oh,” Marinette said, biting her lip. “It’s...well the _party_ is casual, it’s just Kagami is...uh…” Luka raised his eyebrows, and Marinette gave up on trying to be tactful. “Rich,” she finished. “Really rich. And her mother is super strict, so you know...we can’t just throw her a flyer party or anything like that.” 

“I’m not sure I’d fit in at a party like that,” Luka said, his expression completely neutral. 

Marinette shook her head quickly. “I promise, it’s not going to be like that. It has to be exclusive just for Kagami’s safety but it’s not going to be a stuffy rich person party. We rented out the upper floor of that trendy club near the Tower, and there’s going to be live music.” Luka perked up a little at that. “Total club vibe,” Marinette went on. “Just a smaller crowd and open bar.” She smiled. “Kagami’s always wanted to go clubbing with us but her mother would never let her, so we’re trying to replicate the experience.” 

“Still,” Luka sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. “I don’t even know her. I’d feel weird.”

“Well, you know me,” Marinette reasoned. “And you’d be my guest, so it wouldn’t be weird.”

“So...I’d be like your plus one?” Luka tilted his head slightly. “Like a date?”

The _No_ Marinette was tempted to shout got stuck in her throat, and Kagami’s words about assumptions and hesitations were suddenly loud in her ears. “Sure,” she said instead, fingers tightening on the edge of the deck chair. “So, will you be my date to the party?”

For a handful of heartbeats she was certain he would refuse. She wasn’t sure what that face was he was making but it didn’t look like a yes. 

She was floored when he said, “Okay.” So was he, by the look on his face. 

“Okay?” she said breathlessly, and he nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, with a smile that started small but eventually reached his eyes. “Yeah, I think I’d really like that. Been a while since I went out, it'll probably be good for me.” 

“O-okay then,” Marinette grinned, trying to keep her cool and not bubble over in excitement. “Well, I should get going, but...I’ll text you the details? You shouldn’t have any trouble getting in since you’ll be with me, but I can bring the actual invite to the next event. Unless I see you before then. Oh—” she paused, remembering. “It’s the weekend before the tournament finals, is that okay?” 

“Yeah, no sweat,” Luka shrugged “It’d have to be a pretty killer party to take me out for a week.” He grinned at her. “If you can handle it, I can handle it.” 

“Right,” she smirked back. 

“Do I need to dress up?”

Marinette blinked and then thought about it. “Just club wear,” she said finally with a little shrug. “Whatever you’d normally wear going out. I mean, the girls will be dressed up but—” She made a face. “There’s a lot fewer degrees of formal in menswear than there is in women’s.”

“That’s right, you’re a fashion designer,” Luka chuckled. “I’m in trouble. Maybe you can help me work out something so I don’t embarrass you.”

Marinette snorted softly. “You wouldn’t embarrass me, Luka, you’ll look good no matter what you wear.” His grin widened and she blushed as she realized what she’d said. “But if you want some help, I’m happy to,” she shrugged, trying to play it off as best her red cheeks would allow. 

Luka, still sitting on the deck, drew his knees up and draped his arm over them, tilted his head, and gave her the pirate grin. “We’ll work it out. I just know you’re going to look amazing so I want to measure up.” 

Her cheeks burned a little hotter but she shrugged and stood to go, looping her purse over her shoulder. “Just try to find something that’s not falling apart at the seams,” she teased as she walked to the gangplank. She looked back at him and waved. “Bye, Luka.”

“See you later,” he murmured as she crossed. She shot one more smile back at him, one that grew a little brighter when she saw the soft look he was sending back at her, and she _almost_ managed not to trip off the last step.

* * *

The next few weeks were a whirl of tests and competitions and getting her final portfolio ready to submit and showcase at the student fashion show, and the day of Kagami’s party found Marinette trudging up the steps of the Tsurugi mansion a little more tired than she had planned, but still excited to finally give Kagami a real party.

The lady of the hour looked perfect in white slacks and a red sleeveless shirt with a white vest buttoned over it, the new, sharper edge to her bob and the strength in her arms making her look like the powerful, confident woman she was. Marinette had helped with her makeup and it was a little bolder than what Kagami normally wore.

“Are you sure?” Kagami asked, lifting one perfectly lined eyebrow. “It seems like a lot.”

“It won’t, under the club lights,” Marinette promised as she put away the makeup bag and cleaned her hands before smoothing down her own dress. 

Not wanting to compete with Kagami (and never confident in her success if she tried), Marinette had gone for a softer look, with a messy updo that left tendrils hanging around her face and neck, and an off-the shoulder dress with sheer, fluttery sleeves and a gauzy knee-length skirt with a lot of movement; black, but with pink accents that added a little sweetness here and there. It was perfect for dancing, and because it was of her own design and make, there were pockets hidden in the skirt. She’d focused on her eyes for her makeup and kept a light lip. She looked sweet, but with enough edge to fit in...so she hoped anyway.

She rode to the venue with Kagami and helped settle all the last minute details, and then hovered at Kagami’s elbow for a while, as people began to arrive. She greeted their mutual friends as they came in and stood back while Kagami greeted her business associates and other family and school friends that Marinette didn’t know, until Kagami caught her checking the time again and finally shooed her away.

“I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly,” Marinette protested, not entirely truthfully. “I want to be here if you need me.”

“If I need you, I’ll text you,” Kagami said reasonably. “Go enjoy the party for a while. Besides, I can see you fretting and it’s throwing me off. He’ll be here. He’s coming with Juleka, right? I’ll tell him to meet you on the dance floor.” 

Marinette looked at the dance floor and then back at Kagami’s stubborn expression. “Okay,” Marinette said, with a sigh. “If you’re sure. But if you need help with anything—”

“I won’t need help,” Kagami assured her, touching her arm. “You did a great job with the planning and everybody knows what they’re supposed to do. It’ll be fine. It’s time to let go of the planning and just let things be and _enjoy them_.” 

“Okay, okay, I get the message,” Marinette giggled. “But you have to follow your own advice! This party is for you, you can’t be doing business the whole time.”

Kagami sighed heavily and checked the time herself. “I won’t be, I assure you. _You_ may be waiting on a certain handsome acquaintance; _I’m_ counting the minutes until we’ve passed the point of reasonable expectation for greetings.” 

Marinette shook her head a little and smiled, giving Kagami a sympathetic squeeze. “If you need me—”

“I _won’t_ need you. Now go.” 

“Okay, okay,” Marinette giggled, moving off towards the dance floor, but she stopped and turned back instantly when a familiar voice, pitched to carry despite the growing noise, called her name. Marinette turned back instantly, her skirt swirling around her knees. She didn’t realize the way her face lit up, nor did she see Kagami’s sly smirk or the glance between her and Juleka, or the way Juleka had to kick her brother to get him moving towards her. 

All she saw was Luka, and the warm smile and intense eyes he was giving her as he approached and took the hands she didn’t realize she was holding out to him. 

“You made it.” She blinked up at him, trying not to stare. He’d certainly adhered to her terms of wearing things that weren’t about to fall apart, but her fashion brain failed her as her gaze flicked over him and she was left with the impression of leather and metal, dark pants that fit him a little too well, and short sleeves that left his very distracting arms bare. Oh God, had he done that on purpose? Had he noticed her looking before? And damnit he really _was_ good with the eyeliner, it wasn’t fair. 

He tilted his head slightly, still smiling. “Did you think I wouldn’t?” 

Marinette blushed. “No, of course you would, I don’t know what I was—never mind. I was just going to dance, do you, um...want to join me?”

Luka looked thoughtfully at the dance floor. “I don’t know…” he mused, and Marinette’s throat seized up for a moment until he shot a smirk at her and said, “You sure you can keep up with me?” 

Marinette gasped and pouted as he laughed, and she slapped his arm. “Watch me,” she told him, and started off towards the dance floor, the clack of her low heels barely noticeable with the bass pounding through her feet. 

A rough hand caught hers and she glanced back to see Luka grinning as he laced their fingers together. “Don’t want to lose you,” he shrugged, and she smiled, locking her fingers through his. They wound through the small crowd and onto the dance floor. 

Kagami and Juleka were left snickering behind them, entirely forgotten by both. 

“DJ’s pretty good,” Luka commented behind her, and Marinette envied his ability to make himself heard over the music without yelling.

“That’s my friend Nino,” Marinette shouted to him as they reached the spot she was aiming for. Marinette waved up at Nino, who just gave her a grin and nod back in time with the beat. Alya wasn’t here tonight; she was working a deadline and she’d never gotten on that well with Kagami anyway, so even though he was technically an invited guest, Nino was clearly in full professional mode. “He’s the best,” she continued as Luka bent down to hear her. “He’s only playing the first couple hours, though, then he’ll come chill with us and we’ll have the live band I told you about. I hope they’re good; I wasn’t in charge of booking that part, but someone from the club recommended them so I guess they’re probably fine. Is this okay?”

“Good for me,” Luka smiled as she turned to face him. 

Marinette smirked. “First one to quit gets to stand in line for drinks.” 

Luka grinned back. “You’re really going to challenge me in those shoes? You’re on.”

“You should know by now I never give up,” Marinette chided him, lifting her arms and beginning to swing her hips to the beat. 

They’d been dancing only a few minutes when someone tapped Marinette’s shoulder. She glanced back and gasped, 

“Nathaniel!” she yelled, turning from Luka to greet him. “How’ve you been?” she caught his hands and leaned close to be heard. “Is Marc here?” 

“Not yet,” he yelled, grinning. “Said work might go over today.” He shrugged. “Just wanted to say hi, I won’t keep you.” He winked at her. “Your date’s a nice catch but he looks like he could break me in half, so I won’t stick around. We’ll catch up later.” 

“Okay,” she giggled, drawing back. “Later.” 

Nathaniel let go of her with a quick nod to Luka and disappeared back into the crowd. 

“Sorry,” she said, still smiling. “I haven’t seen him in ages. We were in art club together in school and he’s got a part-time job as an illustrator that keeps him really busy outside of his university classes.” 

Luka nodded his understanding, and they were interrupted a few minutes later as Marc came through looking for Nathaniel. Then Max, who at least greeted Luka, and made them both laugh with when he spent a song doing the robot right next to them. Marinette gave him a look that meant _I love you but get lost_ and he retreated, snickering while Marinette made faces at his back. 

“Gotta say, I’m impressed,” Luka chuckled, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t have thought he was that flexible. How many of these people do you actually know?” Luka asked, bending down to her to hear her answer. 

“A few friends from school mostly,” she told him. “A lot of these people are business contacts or people Kagami went to school with after she transferred out, but a lot of my friends got to be her friends also. Max is here because the Tsurugi company works with a lot of robotics manufacturing so Kagami is a business contact for him. She’s very interested in his research.”

“Nice,” Luka nodded with a faint smile. “Good for him.” 

“So then there’s Juleka and Rose and Mylène,” she listed, “Nathaniel and Marc that you met just now, they’re here together assuming they can find each other, and Max always brings Kim so he’s probably here somewhere. And Kagami and Nino, of course.” She looked around and giggled. “I’m not even sure Kagami knows who all the rest of these people are,” she shrugged.

Luka’s nose wrinkled slightly. “Doesn’t that bother her?” 

"Probably,” Marinette said honestly. “But she’s used to it. Most people want to be friends with Kagami because of what they can get from her. She doesn’t have very many people she can really count on.”

“She’s lucky to have you, then,” Luka observed. Just then the music shifted, going mellow and smooth. 

“Huh,” Luka said, and they both looked up at the DJ booth. “That’s different.” 

“A request?” Marinette shrugged, making a face at Nino when he waved at her with a grin that told her this was probably an Alya plan, even if Alya wasn’t here. 

“Maybe,” Luka acknowledged, and looked down at her. “So are you giving up yet?” 

Marinette snorted automatically. “No. Why, do _you_ want to quit?” 

“Definitely not,” Luka chuckled, holding out his hands, and Marinette blushed as she realized couples all over the floor were coming together to slow dance. She hadn’t even put together that he was giving her an out if she didn’t want to. Well, she wasn’t about to back down now. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t want to dance with him, after all. 

She stepped forward and put her hands on his shoulders, and his found her waist, and they began to sway in time with the other couples.

“At least it’s easier to talk now,” Luka chuckled. “I like your hair,” he added, lifting a hand to tweak a tendril laying against her bare shoulder. “Very pretty.” 

“Thanks,” Marinette smiled up at him. He met her eyes for just a moment, then his gaze flicked away. He did a double take and then froze, staring at something over her shoulder, before going completely red and turning his head away. 

“What?” Marinette asked, looking over her shoulder, but she didn’t see anything noteworthy.

“Nothing,” Luka muttered, still blushing. “Just Juleka giving me shit. I’ll get her back later.” 

Marinette looked over her shoulder again and found Juleka leaning against a wall, clearly laughing too hard to stand up straight, and Kagami standing next to her with a scandalized yet amused expression. Juleka only laughed harder (and even Kagami giggled a little) when Luka rolled his eyes and lifted one hand from Marinette’s waist to flip off his sister. Marinette raised her eyebrows and turned back to Luka. “Ohhhhkay…” she murmured, and Luka shook his head.

“Siblings,” he grumbled. “Especially mine.” He sighed, and tugged Marinette a little closer, getting them swaying with the beat again. “Let’s just pretend she doesn’t exist, that usually works for me.” He smiled down at her and Marinette giggled. 

“Mean,” she teased, squeezing his shoulder, and that was a mistake because wow, that was really solid, and Luka smirked like he knew exactly what she was thinking. 

“Do you really want to be thinking about my sister right now?” he asked, tugging her a little closer. “Can’t we just enjoy getting to see each other without the makeup?” 

“I’m still wearing makeup,” Marinette pointed out. “So are you.” 

“You know what I meant,” he chuckled. 

“Do I look like a mind reader to you?” Marinette teased. 

“You look incredible,” he said softly. “Really.”

Marinette couldn’t contain the smile or the blush, but she did her best to hold his gaze. “Thank you. Um...so do you. Like always.”

It was Luka who broke the stare, looking away with a grin that gave her flutters in her belly, because he looked entirely too pleased. “You’re way too dangerous to look this sweet,” he muttered, and Marinette wasn’t sure she was supposed to hear it but she couldn’t resist teasing him anyway. 

“You’re way too sweet to look this dangerous,” Marinette giggled, and caught her breath at the look he gave her. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was no stranger to kissing; she’d kissed her way through a fair number of boys in her quest to get over Adrien Agreste. She knew how to kiss and be kissed and she knew what it looked like when a boy was thinking about kissing her (and maybe she knew how to pout her lips just so to help him make up his mind if he was wavering).

But before she could decide how she felt about that look and what it meant, the song ended and a pounding dance beat once again took its place, with a synthesized, digital sound that was very trendy at the moment. Luka straightened, and his hands slipped from Marinette’s waist as he stepped back. Marinette let her hands drop from his shoulders, the brightness in her dimming a little at the expression on Luka’s face.

“I’m, um, gonna go find the restroom,” he told her, leaning close again so she could hear him. “I’ll catch up with you, okay?”

“Okay,” Marinette tried to smile. “I’ll just be back with the girls.” She nodded toward Kagami, Rose, and Juleka. 

“Sure, I’ll find you,” he said, and then strode off quickly. 

Marinette chewed her lip as she made her way over to where Juleka and Kagami were standing. Rose had joined them, carrying a frothy pink drink with an umbrella and a couple of cherries on a skewer.

“Where’s Luka?” Kagami asked, with a look that suggested she was thinking about her sword.

“He said he was going to the bathroom,” Marinette frowned, rubbing one arm with the opposite hand. “He had a...a funny look, though. I hope he’s okay.

Juleka shook her head. “He’ll be fine in a minute.”

Marinette looked at her, but Juleka wouldn’t meet her eyes. “He doesn’t like this song,” Juleka shrugged without looking up. “Look, I can’t talk about it, just. He’ll be fine. He really does just need a minute. It wasn’t anything you did.” 

“If you’re sure,” Marinette sighed, smoothing down her dress. “We were having such a good time, too.”

“I bet,” giggled Juleka, and Rose beamed, and Kagami covered a snicker with the tips of her fingers. Marinette blushed and pouted, folding her arms and looking away. 

She felt a squeeze on her shoulders and Kagami said near her ear, “I’m glad to see you stopped hesitating.” 

Marinette laughed a little too hard, and then turned away from her, asking, “So, are you guys enjoying the party?”

That set bubbly Rose off on an excited ramble and gave Marinette time to breathe and get herself composed, though she had to pretend not to see Kagami and Juleka still giggling at her. 

Rose had almost run out of words and Marinette was about to ask another question to get her going again when someone reached out and grabbed Juleka’s arm, turning her around. “Juleka!”

Juleka reacted immediately, jerking backward with a gasp, eyes wide and panicked. Rose grabbed onto her shoulders from behind, steadying her as she tried to brace her feet and pull back. 

The guy holding onto her didn’t let go, taking a step forward instead to follow as Juleka pulled away. “Hey, Juleka, long time no see. Can I talk to you for a second?” He was tall and broad-shouldered, good-looking if any of them had cared to notice, with heavy makeup on his eyes and spiked black hair. Metal flashed on his clothes but Marinette had no time to take in more, because Juleka was still trying to get away, and the guy wasn’t letting go. “Shit, Juleka, just wait a second, will you?” he said, clearly exasperated and impatient. “It’s just me.” 

“Hey,” Marinette snapped, stepping up beside Juleka. “Let her go.” 

“Buzz off, sweetheart, this has nothing to do with you. Look, Juleka, I just need to talk to Luka, is he here?”

Marinette wasn’t listening to him. Juleka’s eyes were wide and she was beginning to breathe quickly. Marinette raised her heel and jammed it into the man’s instep, and while he was off balance, Kagami struck. The fencer grabbed at the hand holding onto Juleka and bent his thumb back, two fingers of her other hand circling his wrist to pinch a nerve that made him yelp and his grip go limp. Juleka jerked free and stumbled backwards. Rose caught her while Marinette and Kagami got in between them and the cursing stranger. Marinette opened her mouth to tell him to get lost as Kagami pulled out her phone to signal her bodygaurds, but before either of them could do more, Luka appeared behind the stranger, grabbing the back of the man’s shirt and spinning him around.

“You have two seconds to explain to me why you had your hands on my sister before I get myself kicked out of here,” Luka snarled. “And we both know the bouncers in this place like me a lot better than you, Jean.”

“Woah, easy, easy,” Jean put his hands up. “I just wanted to talk, Luka, I was just asking where you were!”

“Juleka knows I have nothing to say to any of you,” Luka snapped. “And that still doesn’t explain why you thought you could touch her.”

“Okay, okay, that was a bad call and I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I forgot about her...thing.”

“Is she okay?” Luka looked around him to where Marinette was still standing between the man and her friends. She glanced back, and Juleka looked up at her and nodded, breathing fast and shaky but not in a full-blown panic attack. Marinette looked back at Luka and nodded in turn. Some of the tension went out of his shoulders and he pushed past Jean to stand next to her. “Are _you_ okay?” he asked quietly, fingers brushing her face before settling on her arm, and Marinette nodded again.

Luka turned back to Jean and folded his arms. “Just get lost, Jean. Like I said, I have nothing to say to you. What are you even doing here, I thought this party was invitation only?”

Jean ignored the question, which Marinette would very much have liked to have answered. She glanced at Kagami, who shook her head slightly. She didn’t know him. “Luka, look, I know we parted on a bad note—”

“That’s putting it mildly, don’t you think?” 

“—But I’m _sorry_ , we’re all sorry about how things went down and what happened, and we’re in a really tight spot tonight and you’re the only guy who could possibly step in and bail us out.” 

Luka stared at him in complete silence for three full seconds. “You’re the band for tonight.” 

Jean sighed gustily. “Yeah, we are, and we’re down a guitarist. Our last guy called and quit about an hour ago. I can’t get anybody else on short notice and nobody but you could keep up anyway—” 

“You actually think I’d even _consider_ playing with you again?” Luka burst out, his voice raising. “Forget it.” 

“Look, man,” Jean said, sighing. “I know Xavier did you dirty—” 

“I told you he was bad news,” Luka growled. “I _warned_ you and you still took him on, and I _kept_ warning you, and you all made me into the bad guy. And in the end, he stole my bandmates, my girlfriend, and _my music /em > , Jean. I’ve had to start over from _scratch_.” _

__

“Look, I get it, man, he did it to us too, dropped us the second he got an in—” 

__

Luka snorted, folding his arms. “Color me shocked. If only someone had warned you—oh wait. _I did_. Repeatedly.” 

__

Jean pressed his lips together for a moment, clearly trying to keep his temper. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “We should have listened to you. We should have trusted you. Casey’s been miserable ever since. We’re truly, honestly sorry.”

__

"Good,” Luka grit out. “Thank you.” 

__

“So you’ll play with us?” Jean asked, motioning vaguely towards the state, and Luka scoffed. 

__

“No. Now get out of my face. I don’t want to see any of you and I catch you even _near_ my sister again, I got no problem going to jail for a night, you understand?” 

__

“Yeah, yeah, I know what a psycho you are about her,” Jean muttered. “Thanks for nothing, Luka.” He turned on his heel and stalked away.

__

“Kiss my ass, Jean,” Luka yelled after him with a scowl, and for a moment he looked like he might follow before Marinette curled a hand around his arm and tugged lightly. He looked down at her and then away, his jaw tight. 

__

“Marinette, perhaps your friend would like to step away and cool off,” Kagami said quietly. Marinette nodded and pulled Luka towards the door. Kagami was sympathetic, she was sure, and there were bouncers and bodyguards scattered throughout the small crowd, but any disturbance would be reported to her mother, and nobody wanted that.

__

They made it only a few steps towards the door when Luka planted his feet and wouldn’t move. “Not that way. Come on.” He took her hand and tugged him along behind her like he knew exactly where he was going. Marinette followed him through the back rooms and up some stairs. 

__

“Lock’s been broken for months,” he muttered, banging on the door twice near the deadbolt and then opening it to show the roof. Luka let go of her hand and walked out onto the roof, leaning his elbows against the ledge and running his hands through his hair.

__

Marinette followed him slowly. “You know this place, huh.” 

__

“I know most of the clubs in this part of town that have live music,” Luka replied mechanically. “Played in most of them, too. If I haven’t, my mom has, so...yeah I know it.” 

__

“I didn’t know,” Marinette said, leaning against the wall beside him. “That you were so serious with your music, I mean. That’s...kind of amazing, Luka.” 

__

“Yeah, I haven’t talked about it much with you,” he muttered into his arms, ignoring the compliment. “It’s just...a lot to explain. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for causing a scene at your friend’s party.”

__

“You don’t have to be sorry for not telling me. I’d never ask you to share more than you wanted to. And what happened wasn’t your fault. He grabbed Juleka out of the blue, we were all surprised,” Marinette told him. Luka pressed his lips together, clearly angry all over again at the thought.

__

“Hey,” Marinette said, stepping closer and putting a hand over the hands he had clenched in front of his face. “She’s okay. We were there and you were there and she’s okay. Rose and Kagami will take care of her.” 

__

“Yeah,” Luka sighed, closing his eyes and putting his forehead down on his hands. He took a couple of slow, deep breaths. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

__

Marinette hesitated a moment, but remembered what he’d told her about being a hands-on kind of person, and everything she’d seen since then had confirmed that, so…

__

She took a nervous breath, and then stepped into his side and wrapped her arms around him, over his own, and hugged him tight. 

__

Instantly he relaxed and leaned into her, releasing his hands to place one over her arm where it circled him. He took another deep breath and let it out, and some of the tension seemed to flow out of him with it.

__

“Do you want to talk about it?” Marinette asked. 

__

“It’s a long, messy story,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. You probably got the gist.” He shook his head slightly. “I can’t believe they think I’d still play with them after everything that went down.” He stiffened slightly. “It’s going to ruin your friend’s party, isn’t it, if I don’t play with them?”

__

“Not _ruin_ ,” Marinette sighed, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Nino won’t mind if we ask him to take over the rest of the night.” 

__

Luka winced. “He’s supposed to be a guest, though.”

__

“So are you,” Marinette pointed out, squeezing him lightly. 

__

“Yeah, but he’s actually her friend,” Luka protested weakly.

__

“You’re _my_ friend,” Marinette said firmly. “And I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with out of guilt. Although…” She paused, her mind suddenly kicking into overdrive as she weighed possibilities.

__

Luka turned his head slightly to look at her. “Marinette?”

__

“They sounded pretty desperate,” Marinette said cautiously. 

__

“Yeah, it’s not going to look good for them if they have to cancel this at the last minute,” Luka said, tapping his fingers on her knee. “Especially after the damage Xavier did to their rep, and after the way they did me…” He glanced at her and away, as if embarrassed. “I’m kind of well-known in the local scene, and so’s my mom. She’s never exactly been a quiet person and it’s pretty generally known, what happened. They’re going to have trouble finding a quality guitarist that’s willing to work with them. That’s why they’re having this problem, I’m sure, they’re probably hiring newbies that are desperate to perform with a group, and none of them can hack it at the level they need for long. Jean’s not the easiest guy to work with to begin with and Simon...” He huffed. “Guy can flay the skin off your bones in twenty words or less if he doesn’t like you. I can’t believe they actually got someone here to recommend them for this gig.”

__

“So,” Marinette said thoughtfully, “They’re really in a tough spot. Sooooo they might be willing to agree to some pretty crazy terms if they thought they could get you back on stage with them.” 

__

Luka straightened slowly, giving her time to let go of him before he turned and faced her. “What are you saying?”

__

“I’m just thinking,” Marinette said slowly, “That if there’s anything they took from you that you could possibly get back—that you _want_ to get back...now’s the time.” 

__

Luka’s eyes widened as he looked at her.

__

“You’ve got all the power here,” Marinette said, folding her arms and tapping one finger on her bicep as she considered. “I don’t know if there’s anything they have that you really want from them anymore—” 

__

“There is,” Luka said quickly. “There absolutely is.” 

__

“Then…” Marinette nodded towards the door. “Shall we go negotiate? You get what you want, Kagami gets her party, and either way you don’t ever have to see them again.”

__

Luka stared at her for a moment, until Marinette bit her lip. “Unless you don’t want to. If you don’t want to, that’s totally okay, I just thought—” She cut off as Luka’s fingers touched her lips, silencing her as she blinked up at him. 

__

“You’ll go with me?” he asked quietly, letting his fingers fall and then tangle with hers. 

__

Marinette nodded. 

__

Luka took a deep breath, and nodded, looking at the door behind her. “Okay. Okay then. Let’s go talk.” 

__

“Are you sure?” Marinette asked softly, folding her fingers in with his.

__

“Yeah,” Luka nodded, his jaw set. “I’m sure. One more show. I can do one more show, if it means I get back what’s mine.” 

__

To Luka’s evident surprise, though Marinette felt none, Max was waiting for them as soon as they walked back into the party with Kim at his back, and so was Kagami. 

__

“I assume there’s a plan?” Max said matter-of-factly as soon as they were in the door. Marinette nodded, and Max grinned. “Excellent. Lead the way, then.” 

__

“Does the plan involve punching?” Kim asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “Cause you know I’ll do it for you man, but my athletic scholarship—” 

__

“The odds are extremely low that punching will be required,” Max broke in, giving his friend an exasperated look. “You just have to stand there and look intimidating. If there is punching, we’ll all testify that you didn’t start it.”

__

“Oh, cool, I can do that part,” Kim grinned. 

__

“Juleka?” Luka asked, looking at Kagami.

__

“We took her into the manager’s office,” Kagami replied. “Rose is with her.” She tilted her head. “Shall we proceed?” 

__

Luka and Marinette exchanged a look, and still hand in hand, proceeded to the club’s little green room, where a harried-looking Jean opened the door.

__

Luka didn’t waste any time, though his hand squeezed Marinette’s tight. 

__

“I’ll play,” Luka said, his shoulders squared despite his death grip on Marinette’s hand. “On one condition. I want her back.”

__

Jean looked surprised, glancing over his shoulder. “Well, I mean, that’s kinda between you and Casey but I know she—” 

__

Luka was the one to look surprised now. “What? No, I’m not talking about Casey, I’m talking about _Claire_.”

__

“Who?” Jean looked totally lost now.

__

Luka let go of Marinette’s hand and braced his hands on the doorframe. “My guitar, Jean. The one you guys said was bought with band funds and refused to give back, even though _I_ was the one who donated those funds to the band to begin with? I want her back. And if I find out you sold her or gave her to one of those idiots you hired to replace me then you can—”

__

“We didn’t, we didn’t, the guitar stayed with the band, that was the rule,” Jean held up his hands, but he looked away and sighed. “That was an expensive guitar, Luka.” 

__

“I fucking know,” Luka growled. “I picked her out and _I_ won the money that paid for her. And don’t—” he added quickly, and Jean shut his mouth. “Don’t you dare give me that bullshit line _again_ , Jean. I don’t care what the legal paperwork says, it was bullshit and you know it. Listen we both know that I don’t owe you _any_ favors so if you want me to play tonight, it’s Claire or nothing. Signed paperwork, she’s mine, free and clear, and I don’t take a cut of the booking. Just Claire.” 

__

“That’s insane for one show,” Jean protested, and Luka raised his hands, stepping back.

__

“Claire, or I don’t play.” 

__

“If I know my family’s lawyers,” Kagami inserted casually from behind them, “Their breach of contract clauses are extremely punitive. You should consider yourselves very lucky that this is all he’s asking. If I were you, I’d agree to his terms.”

__

Jean’s lips thinned and his chin took on a stubborn tilt. Marinette’s stomach twisted apprehensively, worried Kagami had come on too strong, though she believed every word of it. “We’re not breaching any contract, we can still play,” Jean began, but he was interrupted when Max leaned over Marinette’s shoulder.

__

“Marinette,” Max said, “Can I assume that you have once again neglected to mention that you are Jagged Stone’s personal designer?”

__

Luka and Jean both turned wide eyes toward Marinette. She blushed and shot a dark look at Max, who was holding up his phone to display a picture of Jagged, his cheek pressed to Marinette, holding up a peace sign as she gave an embarrassed grin. Marinette was holding the album artwork she’d designed and Jagged had on his signature Eiffel Tower sunglasses.

__

“I might have his agent’s number,” she said coolly, folding her arms. She wanted to kick Max but she trusted him enough to follow his lead. “Penny’s very busy, I’m not sure she would take a recommendation to listen to a new band...but she’d certainly remember your name if I mentioned it, good…” She smirked. “Or bad.”

__

“It would be a shame if Marinette published this information about this incident on her social media,” Max commented, adjusting his glasses. “Especially as Jagged Stone is such a big fan of her work. Remind me, Marinette, he manages his social media himself, is that correct? I’d calculate very low odds that anyone could stop him if he took it in his head to go on a rant about how badly his favorite young artist was treated?” 

__

Jean stared at Max, and then at Marinette, and she stared right back, her spine steel though her cheeks heated and her stomach was a little wobbly. She tilted her head and lifted her eyebrows. 

__

“Fine,” Jean muttered. “Just let me grab it out of the van. The paperwork, there’s no way I can get that done tonight—”

__

“I can handle that,” Kagami cut in cooly, her cellphone in her hand. “I’ll have someone here with the appropriate contract papers by the time you’re done setting up. Luka doesn’t play without signed papers and the guitar in his hands.” She looked at Luka. “Anything else?” She quirked an eyebrow.

__

“No,” Luka said, staring back at Jean. “That’s the only thing left. Isn’t it, Jean.”

__

Jean sighed and turned back into the room. “Keys,” he said shortly, and someone inside tossed him a set. “I’ll be back,” he muttered, and then paused, turning back into the room. “ _You_ stay here until warm-up,” he ordered, pointing to someone inside. “Whatever you need to say can wait until _after_ the show.” He looked at Luka as he shut the green room door behind him. “I’ll go get it.”

__

“I’ll make the arrangements for the contracts,” Kagami said, pulling out her phone and walking away. 

__

Marinette turned to Max and pouted. “That was dirty, Max, you know I hate trading on Jagged’s name.” 

__

“I am aware,” Max said with a shrug, and then smirked. “But as it was for _Luka_ I thought you’d make an exception.” 

__

Marinette’s mouth dropped open and she flushed but before she could murder Max, Luka swept her up in a crushing hug, his face buried in her hair. “You’re amazing,” he whispered huskily. “Fucking incredible.”

__

“I didn’t do anything, Max and Kagami did, so stop,” Marinette mumbled, pushing weakly at his arms, and regretted it the next instant when he let her go. 

__

“Sorry,” he said quickly, and Marinette blushed, opening her mouth to take it back, but Kagami reappeared at just that moment and asked Luka to follow her. 

__

Marinette hesitated to follow until Max placed a thin hand in the middle of her back and shoved. “Go on,” he grinned teasingly, and then softened. “Trust me, he wants you there.” Marinette opened her mouth to protest but just then Luka looked back for her and paused, so she swallowed her words, jabbing an elbow back at Max before she went after Luka and Kagami.

__

“So no punching, right?” she heard Kim ask as she walked away, and rolled her eyes. “We’re done with the maybe-punching part?”

__

When she caught up to Luka, she steeled her courage and slipped her hand back in his. He shot her a look of pure gratitude that made the color rise in her cheeks again and she squeezed his hand lightly. 

__

He held onto her the entire time they waited, and it took some time for one of Kagami’s legal team to arrive with the papers. Only then did Luka let go of her to read every one carefully before nodding. Jean arrived with a guitar case in his hands, which he set on the bar as he took the papers. He barely glanced through them before signing, which made Kagami roll her eyes. No wonder he’d been so dismissive of her threats if he hadn’t even read the contract papers for the gig. Jean clearly wasn’t happy, his lips tight as he picked up the case, but he looked Luka in the eye as he handed it over. 

__

“Warmup in ten,” he said, as Luka took the strap of the case. “We’ll meet you on the stage.” 

__

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Luka said distractedly, already setting the case on a table and undoing the latches. Jean rolled his eyes and walked away to where the rest of the band was still setting up on stage.

__

Marinette stepped up beside Luka to peek around his arm curiously.

__

“ _Claire_ ,” Luka breathed reverently, lifting the sleek black and white guitar out of the case. “Oh, baby, I missed you.” 

__

“Do you two need a minute?” Marinette teased, amused by his attitude towards the instrument. 

__

“More than a minute,” Luka sighed as he checked her over. “But we’ll have to make do. Who the hell put these crap strings on you, baby? We’ll make it right, okay, you just do for me tonight and I’ll take care of you tomorrow, I promise.” 

__

He lifted the strap over his head and settled it across his shoulders. Then he made a face, took it off, and adjusted the strap length before putting it on again. “That’s better,” he murmured. Luka reached forward and dug through the case until he found a packet of picks tucked in a hidden pocket. Nino’s set was just finishing up. At a gesture from Luka Marinette followed Luka him to the stage, where he plugged into the amp and began plucking the strings one at a time. 

__

“There we go,” Luka said, drawing her attention, and then he swept his pick down the strings, and began to play a tune she didn’t know. Marinette had to admit, in Luka’s hands the guitar sang beautifully. Several heads turned curiously towards them. Luka looked up at her and smiled as he played, the first real smile she’d seen on him all night, and there was a light in his eyes she was used to only seeing in competition. 

__

There was a thump on the end of the stage and Luka looked up, his glow dimming as the rest of the band climbed the steps. 

__

"Luka?” Marinette asked, touching his hand where it still cradled the neck of the guitar. “Are you sure about this?” 

__

“Yeah,” Luka nodded. ”I’m playing with them, but I’m not playing for them.” He glanced back down at her, and the softness in his face made her cheeks warm. “Make sure you’re up front. Claire and I are gonna knock your socks off.” He leaned forward and kissed her temple. “Thanks for everything. We’ll talk after the show, okay?” 

__

Face burning, Marinette turned away. The tall girl sitting at the drumset gave her a dark look as she passed, but Marinette pretended not to notice. She went down the stage steps, deciding to check on Juleka. She found her with Rose in the manager’s office, pale but composed and looking much steadier.

__

“He’s really playing with them?” Juleka frowned, when Marinette had relayed everything to her. “Even for Claire, that’s got to be hard for him.”

__

Marinette nodded. “He told me he was playing with them, but he wasn’t playing for them.”

__

That seemed like all the explanation Juleka needed. The worry cleared from her face, and the corner of her mouth quirked up. “Good. He’s gonna make them regret every choice they ever made.” Marinette blinked in surprise but Juleka just shrugged up one shoulder and said, “You’ll see. Let’s get out there, I don’t want to miss this.”

__

“Can he really do this with no rehearsal?” Marinette thought to wonder for the first time as they made their way back to the stage area. Nino, Max, and Kim waved at her from a table down front.

__

Juleka snorted as they made their way over to their friends. “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. They’ve gotta be playing nothing but covers right now since Luka’s not writing for them anymore.” 

__

“He wrote songs for the band?”

__

“Mmhm, but Xavier got the rights through some kind of legal fuckery, so the band has nothing. Luka’s been writing new music but he sure won’t share it with them, so covers are all they’ve got and Luka can play those in his sleep. The only question is whether they can keep up with him.” She looked at Marinette as they found a place near the stage. “You thought he was good on the boat? Wait till you see him on stage.” Juleka smirked. “Hold on to your panties.”

__

Marinette spluttered and Juleka threw back her head and laughed as the stage lights came up. Marinette looked up and swallowed, her heart pounding. The drummer counted them off and Luka began to play an intro, and Marinette’s mouth dropped open a little. He was good, just like he had been on the boat. Everything sounded different when he played it; smoother, more emotional. There was an energy to his playing that she hadn’t seen anywhere else besides the tournament and even though he was in the background he had a presence on stage that was nothing like his usual laid-back, relaxed demeanor. 

__

_This is where how he learned to play the publicity game so well_ , she thought absently to herself. 

__

“Dude, he’s really good,” Nino commented behind them, and Marinette jumped. “I mean like, really good. Damn.”

__

"Well, you would know," Marinette replied absently.

__

"Yeah, man, I've heard a lot of bands and the rest of them aren't _bad_ , but he's off the charts." 

__

“Marinette,” Kagami said gently in her ear, nudging her shoulder. “You’re pining.” 

__

Marinette sighed, not bothering to deny it.

__

“Well, let’s not waste a good beat, dudette,” Nino chided, and began to dance. Marinette giggled and moved her feet to the beat, but she was too preoccupied by the stage to really dance, even when more of their friends found the small group and began to join in. 

__

Marinette’s eyes widened when Luka took Jean’s place at the microphone. There was a bit of a staring contest between the two men before Jean backed away and Luka moved to adjust the microphone stand. 

__

“Wow,” Juleka’s low voice carried surprisingly well even over Luka’s opening riff as she leaned over Marinette’s shoulder. “He hardly ever sings. Guess he must be feeling something tonight.” Marinette looked at her and Juleka smirked knowingly, tossing her curtain of hair back to meet Marinette’s eyes. 

__

Marinette blushed and turned back to the stage just as Luka sang, “I never thought that you could break me apart, I keep a sinister smile and a hold on my heart, you want to get inside, then you can get in line,” his face turned in their direction, like he was looking towards their table. “But not this time.” 

__

“Or maybe he’s feeling someone,” Juleka added in Marinette’s ear, her voice a sly drawl that Marinette didn’t even know Juleka could do. Marinette brought her hands up to her hot cheeks. Rose giggled and half-heartedly admonished Juleka not to tease her.

__

“Cause you caught me off guard,” Luka sang, “Now I’m running and screaming. I feel like a hero, and you are my heroine. Do you know that your love is the sweetest sin?” 

__

Marinette swallowed hard, her fingers going to cover her mouth. His singing was as emotional as his playing, in that smooth voice she’d always loved, and her heart was pounding from more than the alcohol. He had an intense charisma on stage that made his bandmates fade into the background as he moved over the stage, playing the crowd though his eyes kept coming back in their direction. “And I feel a weakness coming on, never felt so good to be so wrong, had my heart on lockdown, and then you turned me around.” The smile he was sending their way made her very glad she was sitting down. 

__

In spite of the stage lights, he seemed to look right at her as the instruments dropped out and his voice softened as he crooned, “And you caught me off guard, and now I’m running and screaming. I feel like a hero, and you are my heroine.” 

__

Marinette forgot how to breathe as the rest of the band joined back in, until Max reached over and squeezed her arm gently. 

__

The cheers that erupted when Luka stepped back from the microphone were easily twice as loud as anything that had come before, and they made Marinette’s ears ring. She didn’t think she was imagining, either, the rather sour look on Jean’s face as he adjusted the microphone back to its previous height. 

__

Marinette didn’t listen to a word he said, her eyes fixed on Luka, who was looking back at her, or at least in her direction, with a soft expression. 

__

She didn’t remember any of the other songs the band played. 

__

When the band was finished, Luka disappeared. One minute he was unhooking his amp cord and the next she couldn’t find him. 

__

“He’s probably on the roof. Someone should probably check on him,” Juleka sighed, and looked at Marinette. “I can go, or you can go.”

__

Marinette turned pink, but she steeled herself, and said, “I’ll go,” and Juleka smiled.

__

“Text if he needs me,” Juleka said, flashing her phone. 

__

“Text if _you_ need me,” Kagami said, squeezing Marinette’s arm before melting back into the crowd. As the hostess, she couldn’t afford to stay in one place too long, after all. 

__

It took Marinette some effort to find the stairwell again, but when she banged in the same spot Luka had, it opened for her just as it had for him. Luka didn’t look at all surprised to see her as she emerged onto the roof. He was leaning back against the wall, his guitar strap still across his shoulder and the instrument cradled in his hands. He was playing, but it sounded odd to Marinette’s ears without the amp.

__

“Hey,” she ventured, and relaxed when he smiled at her. 

__

“Hi,” he sighed, tipping his head in invitation. Marinette stepped up next to him, not looking at his face but listening intently to his voice when he said, “I’m okay.” He sounded okay, more at peace than he had all evening, and Marinette relaxed a little. “It’s okay if you have questions. I can talk about it now.” 

__

“So, the bad breakup,” Marinette began hesitantly, “You meant the band, or…”

__

“Both,” Luka sighed. “I broke up with Casey—the drummer,” he gestured vaguely back at the building behind them. “And the band broke up with me. Once Xavier came along just about everything in my life went to shit.” 

__

Marinette made a sympathetic noise, and he smiled at her. “Come here?” he asked, lifting an arm, and Marinette stepped closer so he could wrap it around her. “Thanks,” he murmured, sighing as he leaned his head on hers. “Tell me if I get too clingy,” he added, sounding a little embarrassed. “I know I can be a lot and you’ve been really good about putting up with it tonight, but...I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

__

Marinette turned towards him slightly and looped her arms around him, giving him a little squeeze. “I don’t mind.” Taking a deep breath, she added, “I like it.” 

__

Luka relaxed a little, and rubbed his cheek against her hair. “I’m glad.” 

__

For a moment they were silent, and then Luka went on. “I told them he was too good to be true. I didn’t like all his promises, and honestly I didn’t even like his music. I’ve seen some guys do amazing stuff with digital music, but...he’s just not an artist. He’s in it for the money, pure and simple. Nothing wrong with making money, none of us want to starve, but…”

__

“But he didn’t feel authentic to you?” Marinette suggested.

__

“Yes,” Luka sighed. “Yes, that’s it exactly. Somehow though I was the only one that felt that way.” Luka rolled his eyes. “He must have flirted with Casey a lot better than he flirted with me, though, because she thought he was just wonderful.” 

__

Marinette made a sympathetic noise, pressing closer to him

__

“In all fairness, she didn’t cheat on me,” he said after a moment, his thumb rubbing absently along her arm. “That I know of, anyway. I’m pretty sure she didn’t. I wasn’t about to stick around until it happened, though. I’m not an idiot, I could see the way the wind was blowing and if she expected me to just hang around while she indulged her little fantasies, then—” He snorted. “She wasn’t happy when I ended it; she said she still loved me and only me and that I was just being jealous and petty and I should trust her, and blah blah blah but…” Luka shook his head. “I’ve never been the jealous type. I never cared when she checked out some guy’s ass at shows or whatever. But this was different, and I’m just not about to be somebody’s backburner boyfriend.” 

__

“Of course not,” Marinette nodded.

__

“Well, that was the beginning of the end,” Luka sighed. “Casey couldn’t let it go; she kept asking for another chance and making a scene, and it got hard for us to work together after that, and they all blamed me because, like I said, she never actually cheated on me so naturally the breakup was my fault, and when Jean told me to either get my shit together and deal with Xavier being part of the band or get out…” Luka shrugged. “I got out. That’s when things really got ugly.” 

__

“Your guitar?” Marinette asked.

__

Luka sighed, running the tips of his fingers along the edge of the fretboard. “There were all kinds of legal and insurance reasons for the equipment to be in the band’s name, and I technically donated the money to the band and technically the band bought the guitar, so I didn’t have a legal leg to stand on when they refused to let me take it as part of the buyout. Xavier may not have been good for much but apparently the one thing Daddy didn’t lose in his divorce with the music industry was his team of cutthroat lawyers.” 

__

“Oh, Luka,” Marinette sighed, rubbing a hand gently on his back. Luka just shook his head, and straightened up a little, leaning into her touch. 

__

“I had to walk away from everything,” he said. “They took the songs I wrote and the guitar I picked out and they went on the tour I booked without me. I don’t know how they thought that would work; Xavier doesn’t even play guitar, but—well, it didn’t matter, because apparently Bob Roth did know a few people still willing to give him a listen. Xavier took the songs I wrote, put them through a bunch of digital filters, and pitched them to a record company and now they’re chart-topping hits by the up and coming artist XY.” 

__

Marinette gasped. “ _That_ guy?”

__

“Yep.” He popped the p. “The one and only Xavier Yves Roth.”

__

Marinette was horrified, but she couldn’t help a giggle. “Jagged _hates_ him.”

__

“Yeah?” Luka grinned. “Of course he does, Jagged has taste.”

__

“I’ve got more rock n’ roll in my little finger,” Marinette quoted, pitching her voice low and imitating Jagged’s accent, “Than that wanna-be poseur ever dreamed existed!” Luka started chortling as she went on. “Yeah he’s got a couple of good songs but they’re so _tortured!_ Where’s the _soul m_?” 

__

“Did he really say that?” Luka laughed.

__

“Every word,” Marinette snickered. “And a whole lot more I don’t want to repeat.”

__

“I still can’t believe you work for Jagged Stone, that’s so wild,” Luka marveled, still chuckling. “You really do? Max wasn’t just blowing smoke?” He nudged her. “And you never told me?”

__

Marinette shrugged, ducking her head slightly. She was proud of her skill and all she’d accomplished, but Jagged had a way of embarrassing her no matter how professional she tried to be. “It was a bit of exaggeration to say I’m his personal stylist,” she said, looking away. “But I do commissions for him every time he’s in Paris. Accessories, clothes, posters, album covers, whatever insanity pops into his weird little brain. And he does follow my social media. I guess he’s kind of taken a shine to me.” 

__

Luka was shaking his head as she spoke. “You’re amazing.”

__

Marinette huffed. “I work for a rock star. You’re going to _be_ one.” Luka sobered quickly, and Marinette bit her lip. “Sorry.”

__

“Don’t be,” he sighed, giving her shoulders a quick squeeze. “It messed me up for a while,” Luka admitted after a moment. “The whole thing. Losing Casey sucked but I could deal, you know? Not my first breakup. Moped around for a week or so in my boxers eating cookies—Juleka was _thrilled_ —and then I got off my ass, cut my hair and changed up my look,” he ran a hand through the short hair on the sides of his head and up to ruffle the turquoise on top, and distantly it occurred to Marinette to wonder if what Luka was wearing tonight had been his pre-beakup-makeover look, before he went to his current go-to of faded and threadbare geek-chic. ”I moved on with my life. Losing my music though, that nearly killed me. Losing Claire was just the icing on the cake. I trusted my friends, my bandmates, I trusted my girl, and it turned out not a single one of them trusted me enough to stand by me.” 

__

“Well, they really screwed up,” Marinette said matter-of-factly. Luka looked at her and she shrugged. “You’re amazing, Luka. Really great. Nobody up there could touch you tonight. You _shine_ on stage. It’s obvious that you were the one getting them bookings. You were their golden goose and they’re going to regret losing you for the rest of their lives. Certainly for the rest of their doomed-to-be-short careers.” 

__

Luka barked a laugh, turning towards her and putting his head on her shoulder as his arm dropped to loop around her waist. “Thanks, Marinette. My family’s always been there for me, but aside from them...it feels like a really long time since anyone’s been on my side. Thank you for just…” he sighed. “Everything tonight. You and Max and everybody else...it was really nice to feel like I wasn’t alone tonight.” 

__

“You aren’t alone,” Marinette said firmly. “Not tonight, and not after tonight either.” Hesitantly she reached up and brushed back the strands falling on his forehead gently. He made a pleased sound and leaned into her touch, so she ran her fingers through his hair, and he sighed contentedly. Marinette petted his hair a few more times and then finally asked, “So is that why you joined the tournament again?”

__

Luka shrugged, not lifting his head. “The first time was an accident,” he muttered, and his breath across her exposed collarbone was very distracting. “I started in the leagues because I liked playing and I liked competing but I didn’t expect to win. When I entered this time it was a bit more calculated. I still love the game, I still win a lot more than I lose, so why not take another shot. It seemed like a quick fix. Win again and I’d have money for a new guitar and some studio time, record some of my new stuff. Get it out there and see what happens.” He grunted softy. “At least I can say this for the whole shitshow, it gave me plenty of material.” 

__

“I’ll bet,” Marinette snorted, and Luka chuckled. 

__

“I had it all planned out,” he said, voice suddenly gone quiet. “Or so I thought. I was definitely not prepared for you.” 

__

“Is that a bad thing?” Marinette tried to tease, but whatever else she might have said died on her lips when Luka lifted his head and the soft look he gave her rendered her completely incapable of further speech. 

__

“No,” he said softly. “It’s not. Not at all.” 

__

Then he moved, his head tilting in a familiar way that told her what he was thinking even before his hand curled behind her neck and his eyes went half-lidded and his lips parted just slightly as they met hers in a soft, tender kiss that was much too innocent for the way it made her feel. Marinette reached up to cup his face without thinking, but it was over before she could do much else. He sighed, resting his forehead against hers, and curling his hand around hers on his face. 

__

Marinette took a breath to speak, but it was a different voice, husky and tearful, that called, “Luka!” Marinette looked up and saw the drummer from the band over Luka’s shoulder, standing in the doorway. “I want to talk to you,” Casey said, a hitch in her throat. Absently Marinette noted that Casey looked just like she would have pictured Luka’s girlfriend-from-the-band to look; pretty in a punk way that Marinette could never hope to achieve, tall in chunky boots, with leather pants and a jacket with a lot of hardware, a side shave and rainbow streaks in her hair. 

__

Marinette didn’t think much of her sense, though. Or her timing. 

__

Luka groaned softly and sighed, his forehead still pressed to hers though his eyes fluttered open. “I’m really sorry,” he whispered. “Apparently I have to go settle this one last time and it’ll probably take a while. I’ll text you when I get home, but it might be late, so...we’ll talk later? Maybe...maybe tomorrow?”

__

“Yeah,” Marinette rasped, and then she cleared her throat and tried to smile. “It’s fine. Do what you have to do.” 

__

He kissed her lips lightly one more time, thumb caressing her cheek before he finally straightened and turned. He went to Casey and took her arm, turning her away from Marinette. “Start walking, Case, I’m not doing this here,” he said. “I’m not looking to bring down my friend’s party with more drama. We’ll go somewhere else.” 

__

Casey jerked her arm away and shot one venomous look over her shoulder at Marinette, who felt her face heat though she kept her back straight and looked straight back defiantly. “Casey,” Luka said warningly, and Casey turned back, her heavy boots thumping across the roof until she reached the door, where she had to pause and wait for Luka, whose pace was less hurried. Marinette watched as they disappeared through the door and then leaned back against the ledge for a moment, face in her hands. It didn’t really matter if she ruined her makeup, anyway. Not anymore. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—probably her friends checking on her or teasing her, one of the two, she was sure. Marinette took a shaky breath before walking towards the door, acutely aware of the delicate tap-tap of her heels across the roof, and trying to figure out how the hell she was going to explain that her date had left her to go with his ex-girlfriend in a way that wouldn’t result in murder. 

__


	7. The Final Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize to everyone who prefers short chapters, as this is another really long one. Pace yourselves as necessary, and thank you so much for persevering to the end with me. I'm so grateful for everyone who has read and left kudos and commented, and I hope though the journey is uh, long, you will find it satisfying.

Kagami, predictably, was not happy when Marinette returned alone, but Juleka’s vindictive smirk when she heard what her brother was doing was enough to convince Kagami to delay any plans of vengeance she might have been making. “I hope he gives that bitch the earful she deserves,” Juleka muttered darkly, and then snorted. “But knowing Luka, he won’t. He’ll be all gentle and patient and she’ll keep arguing for way longer than he should let her before she realizes she might as well be talking to a brick wall.” 

“You don’t think,” Marinette began, and then stopped, reaching up to smooth her hair self-consciously, shifting her weight on her feet and feeling like a fool as several pairs of knowing eyes turned her way.

Juleka arched an eyebrow, but her smile was sympathetic. “I definitely don’t think,” she said warmly, reaching out to squeeze Marinette’s shoulder in a move that reminded her strongly of Luka. “Luka’s very perceptive and empathetic. It makes him too gentle sometimes, but he’s no pushover. She might think she has a chance, but he’s been over her for a long time. Even if he hadn’t... _met anybody_ , she wouldn’t get anywhere with him.” She grabbed Marinette’s hand and pulled her towards the dance floor, reaching out her other hand to snag Rose on her way. “Now enough about my stupid brother, we only have like an hour of party left, let’s go have fun.” 

Marinette giggled, grabbing Kagami’s arm and pulling her along. 

Kagami had offered to let her stay overnight at the mansion, but Marinette had declined in favor of a ride home. She crept into her room as quietly as she could, sent her parents a text to let them know she was home just in case one of them woke up and worried, and went to wash her makeup off and get ready for bed. 

Her phone beeped just as she was drying off her face, and she picked it up to find a text from Luka. _Just letting you know I made it home. Sorry for leaving so suddenly._

Marinette sighed, and smiled slightly as she answered him. _It’s okay, I understand. Did you get everything worked out in the end?_ She chewed her lip as she sent the message, but she needed to know, and there really wasn’t any good way to ask the question. She finished up with her moisturizer and climbed the stairs up to her bed, wincing at the ache in her feet.

She sat cross-legged on her bed to read his reply. _As much as it can be. She’s not happy, but making her happy isn’t my job anymore. She got the message, finally, and that’s all that matters to me._

Before she’d even finished reading that one, another message came in.

_I know it’s really late and I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I’d really like to hear your voice one more time. Is it okay if I call?_

Marinette really wanted to hear his voice too. Before she could second-guess herself too much, she hit the call button.

He picked up immediately. “Hey,” he said softly, voice a little rough and tired-sounding but still enough to make her feel warm and remember the soft touch of his lips against hers. 

“Hi,” she said shyly, suddenly breathless.

“Marinette,” he sighed, and she had to smile at the way he said her name, like he was relieved and happy and exhausted all at once. “I just wanted to say I am so, so sorry about how everything went down tonight, and also...thank you. I think I got some closure tonight that I really needed, and it was really thanks to you and your friends, and...and I’m just incredibly grateful. And I totally owe you a rain check on the party date because I was having a great time until—” he sighed again. “All that other stuff. Your friends are pretty cool.” 

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled, picking at the hem of her pants. “They really are. We’ve had our ups and downs, but the ones that have stuck around, they’re really amazing.” She sighed slightly through her nose, brow furrowing in annoyance. “And I’m really sorry you haven’t had the same experience.”

“Well,” Luka said, and the smile in his voice made her smile too, “I got a taste of it tonight. It’s nice to know friendships like that really exist. I mean, I know they do, I’ve had some...still have some, even if they’re far away, but...okay, I’m rambling and I’m keeping you awake and you’re probably just as tired as I am, but I just, um...I wanted to…” He took a deep breath, and went on a little too quickly, “When I kissed you tonight, I wasn’t, I didn’t do anything right and I was kind of overwhelmed and not thinking clearly, but I want you to know I really—” 

“Wait,” Marinette said quickly, her heart suddenly pounding. “Wait. I think...Luka, if it’s okay with you, I think I’d rather talk about this in person. Maybe when we’re both a little clearer headed than we are right now?”

“Yeah,” Luka said slowly. “Yeah, okay, I guess that makes sense. So...when can I see you in person?” 

Marinette winced, turning and pulling down her schedule. “I have so much to do this week,” she nearly moaned, fisting a hand in her hair and tugging hard. 

“Hey,” he said, and something in his voice made Marinette cringe. “It’s okay.”

“No, I want to, I promise I’m not blowing you off, I really want to talk about this with you, it’s just—of course everything always has to happen at once and…ugh, _timing._ ” Marinette chewed her lip, scanning across the week, trying to find some time. Surely she could spare him ten minutes somewhere...but was the conversation they needed to have something that she really could rush? What was she even doing, why didn’t she just let him say what he wanted to say, why was she...she was…

Hesitating. Why was she hesitating? Marinette chewed her lip and blew out a frustrated breath, forgetting that Luka was still on the phone. She jumped when he spoke again.

“Marinette,” Luka said, his tone gentle, and she made a distracted noise of acknowledgement. “Listen. Don’t sweat it. I know you have your presentation this week and the tournament, right? If you’re busy and you need some space, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it. We can settle this afterwards. I’m not going anywhere. Well. Not until we talk, at least.” 

Marinette’s eyes landed on the weekend, colored in red and outlined in black. “The tournament,” she said softly. “The championship. We could...we could talk there? Maybe after?” 

Luka was silent for a moment, and Marinette heard him take a deep breath. “Is that the best time?” he said cautiously. “Do we really want to have that on our minds?” 

“You know what,” Marinette said, beginning to smile. “I think it’s the perfect time. It’s where we met, afterall.”

“Well,” Luka said, and she could tell he was smiling too. “There is a certain poetry to that.” 

“Okay,” Marinette said, her smile growing into a grin. “After I’m done kicking your ass in the finals, then.” 

“Oh, brave words from the lady with the forty percent win rate against me,” he laughed, and Marinette made a face.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Max,” she accused. 

“Max is a fun guy,” Luka chuckled. “Not as much fun as you, but you know, he has his moments.” 

Why was she so pleased at that, that he preferred her company over Max, ugh she was pathetic. She covered a giggle anyway, but it turned into a yawn.

“I’ll let you go to sleep,” Luka said, amusement clear in his voice. “Good luck this week, Marinette, and I’ll see you this weekend and...we’ll talk.” 

“Yes,” Marinette nodded decisively, though he couldn’t see her. “We will.” 

* * *

Two days later and elbow deep in unfinished clothes that were supposed to be runway ready in less than twenty-four hours, Marinette was actually feeling good about her decision to defer her talk with Luka.

Not everyone agreed, however.

“ _Girl_ ,” Alya screeched from Marinette’s floor, where she was hammering rivets into a jacket. Max winced from where he was sitting at Marinette’s desk, pliers in his hand and a spool of jewelry wire next to him. “Why did you do that?” 

Marinette sighed, and bit her lip. “Because—” 

“Because _what?_ ” Alya demanded.

“Because I need to be the one to say it,” Marinette sighed, as she rearranged the fabric on her sewing machine. “It’s just...it’s something I need to do, Alya. I don’t expect you to understand.” 

“Oh I understand,” Alya sighed. “I just think it’s silly. You could be making out right now if you’d just let him say his piece.” 

“First of all,” Marinette grumbled. “You don’t know that, you’re making assumptions. He could have been about to say he really values my friendship and he doesn’t want anything to change. Second, I have way too much to do this week. I wouldn’t have time for making out even if I did have a hot new boyfriend to do it with. Third, I just...I told you, I need to do it. I need to know that I can put myself out there and tell a boy I like him and not just...let it happen to me.”

“You must have done that lots of times, Marinette, what about all those guys you made out with that last year of high school?” 

Marinette rolled her eyes, glancing at Max with a blush, though he was studiously ignoring the conversation, focused on the task in front of him. “It’s not even close to being the same thing.” She felt a little ashamed, actually, of the way she’d used some of those guys, even though they were usually more than happy to be used and she’d never been dishonest with any of them. “This isn’t about just kissing and proving to myself that someone can like me and be attracted to me. It’s not just as simple as asking a cute guy to a party, I just…” She sighed. “It’s the first time I’ve really felt like this since then, with all the butterflies and the fear and the...the…” 

“Passion?” suggested Alya smugly, and Marinette rolled her eyes again.

“Whatever. The point is, I just need to be the one to say it, and I want to do it face to face.” 

“Well, maybe you’re right and I don’t really get it,” Alya sighed. “It sounds like he’s pretty into you, so it seems like you’re splitting unnecessary hairs. But I guess you do what you have to do, girl.”

“I will,” Marinette said firmly, “And what I need to do now is get these garments finished for my presentation so I can put that to bed and focus on beating my gorgeous potential boyfriend this weekend before I confess my—”

“Yeeees?” Alya teased.

“Feelings,” Marinette finished with a flush. “Look, can we be done talking about this now?” 

“Fine,” Alya rolled her eyes and put the hammer down, stretching her fingers. “I’m going to go grab some water, do you guys want some?”

“Yes, please,” Marinette and Max chorused together, and Alya stood up. Before heading to the trap door, she crossed the room to look over Max’s shoulder at the wire he was twisting to match the sketch Marinette had given him. 

“Wow, Max, you’re surprisingly good at that,” Alya commented, and Max gave her a look over his glasses.

“I know my way around wires and a pair of pliers, thank you very much,” Max sniffed. “It’s not _that_ different from wiring a circuit board.” 

“Well, the next time you need help with something like that, count me in,” Marinette said, frowning as she tried to untangle the mess her bobbin had mysteriously become. “I owe you guys sooooo much for this.”

“I will give your offer due consideration when the time inevitably comes,” Max replied. “Incidentally, do you happen to have another ticket to the show? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

“Max, really?” Alya sighed, heading towards the trap door. “You’re going to ask her that _now_? Have you checked under your piles of nerd crap?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Marinette said, reaching over to grab a decorated box on her desk and rummage through it. “Here you go, Max. Kagami can’t make it so I had one more than I needed anyway.” 

“Thank you, Marinette,” Max said, with a grin that would have made her look twice if she hadn’t been so preoccupied. 

As it was she barely noticed it, and forgot it entirely until much later, when her presentation was over and the high of achievement and the exhilaration of her first really professional fashion show were finally wearing off and she was about to fall into bed for the night. As she fumbled to plug her phone into the charger, she noticed a text on the screen and paused. 

It was from Luka.

_You were fantastic up there. Sorry I couldn’t stay long enough to see you after. Congratulations, all the hard work paid off._

Marinette gaped at the phone for a moment. _You were there?_ she texted back, and then berated herself for not checking the time first. He was probably asleep, he must have sent that text hours ago.

Even as she thought it, her phone pinged with a response.

_Yeah, I hope that was okay. Tell Max thanks for the ticket. ;)_

Marinette gaped again, and then pouted for a moment before hitting the call button. 

Luka picked up right away. “Surprise,” he said, laughter in his warm voice.

“Max is a sneak,” Marinette pouted, though she was trying not to smile. “And I’m going to kill him.” 

“Max is a sneak,” Luka agreed. “But don’t be mad. I ran into him the other day and asked how you were, and we got to talking, and I let it slip that I really wished I could be there, and he gave me his ticket on the spot. Made me promise not to tell you until after, though. I would’ve stayed to say congrats but I had a gig I had to get to, and...well I didn’t want to make things weird.” 

“I’m glad you were there,” Marinette smiled, and then added shyly, “You really think I did well?” 

“You did amazing,” he said sincerely, and Marinette felt a thrill that made her wiggle a little in place. “I know a thing or two about stage presence, and you’ve definitely got it. I’m really glad I got to see you present. And...well I can’t claim to know much about fashion, but I really liked what you did.” 

A hot flush raced up her face and she slapped a hand over it even though he couldn’t see her. 

“Marinette? You okay?”

Marinette made an affirmative noise. “Sorry. I just...that makes me really happy. That you think so. That you liked it. I—” She made a high pitched whine. “I’m not making any sense.” 

“It’s late and you’re tired,” Luka chuckled. “It’s fine. I don’t want to keep you up any longer, I just wanted to let you know I was there. Juleka said it was creepy to show up without telling you.” 

Marinette giggled. “Well, she maybe has a point. I would have gotten tickets for you and Juleka both if you had asked.”

“Sorry,” Luka sighed, and she heard a thump that she thought might be his head hitting a table. “I promise, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just...I knew it was important to you and…I know you needed space and I didn’t want to confuse anything and—” He cut off with a strangled noise and sighed. “Okay, I’m going to tell you good night now and hang up before I dig myself any deeper.” 

Marinette had to bite her lip to stop her giggling, “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m really glad you were there, Luka. Really. That...it _was_ important to me, and it’s an important part of me, and I didn’t think about it before but...I’m really glad I got to show you that. Seeing you play on stage, I felt like I really got to see an important side of you that I didn’t know anything about, so...I hope maybe tonight was like that for you.” She bit her tongue, feeling like she wasn’t explaining herself well. 

“It was,” Luka said, his voice softening a little in a way that made her shiver. “It really was, and…” He paused, and cleared his throat. “Well. I know you’ve been working hard and I don’t want to keep you up any later. I just wanted to tell you I thought you did great tonight and I’m super impressed, as always. Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Sleep,” Marinette repeated, hand still over her face. “Sleep would be good. Maybe for like a week.” 

“You’ve really been running hard, huh,” Luka said sympathetically. “Once all this is over, we’ll take some time and just hang out and relax. I’ll play for you.” 

“Really?” Marinette perked up.

“Yeah,” Luka chuckled. “Just like that day on the boat.”

“That was nice,” Marinette smiled, finally letting her hand slide down off her face. 

“Mm. It really was.”

There was a long pause. 

“I should—” she began, just as he said, “You should—” and they both laughed. 

“Good night, Marinette,” Luka said at last. “Rest well.” 

“Good night, Luka,” Marinette murmured. “See you soon.” 

“Soon,” he repeated, and hung up. 

A few minutes later her phone beeped with one final text.

_Can’t wait to see you this weekend._

Marinette sent back a single pink heart and fell back giggling onto her bed, kicking her feet for a second in a brief burst of energy before she crawled under the covers and fell asleep with a grin on her face. 

When Max showed up for practice the next day, she punched him in the arm, and then threw her arms around his neck. “You’re a great friend,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “And I hate you.”

Max just chuckled and patted her back.

* * *

The morning of the UMSIII Master League Championship, Marinette was a fluttering, nervous wreck. That wasn’t totally unexpected, and her parents put up cheerfully with her clumsiness, absentmindedness, and confusion, giving her gentle encouragement and moving the breakables quietly out of her path. Finally they kissed her goodbye, handed her the bag she’d been about to forget, and promised that they would be in the stands with the rest of her friends. 

She leaned her head on the cool metal rail of the subway and tried to breathe. There was a lot on the line today. Marinette was fairly confident she could place, but...she wanted to win. There was a steep drop in the prize value between first and second place and an even sharper drop between second and third. She wanted to do well, yes, but really she wanted to _win_. 

Luka wanted to win too, and that made her stomach twist. She hadn’t seen him in person since the night of the party. Other than their brief conversations, Marinette had been trying not to think too hard about him, to focus on the competition in her practice sessions with Max, but she wasn’t entirely successful. A lot of things had fallen into place for her since she’d seen him on stage. Now she understood how he played to the crowd in his interviews, the way he could project his voice in a crowd, the calm, easy going demeanor he kept up even in the heat of competition. He was used to pressure, he was used to crowds, he was a trained vocalist, and he enjoyed having an audience. Marinette felt like she had a much better picture of him in her mind now, a better understanding of who he was, and everything she knew just made her want to know more. 

She was determined to tell him so. 

But first she had to get through the tournament. And some small, ugly little part of her was afraid. Would he still want to talk to her if she beat him? 

Of course he would. It was ridiculous to think otherwise. It was just a game, after all.

A game with both their dreams on the line.

She almost missed her metro stop. 

Marinette swallowed hard as she walked up to the huge stadium and showed her player pass to the guard. She was on her own for the moment; the individual finals would be held in the afternoon and the team competition in the evening, so Max couldn’t come with her. Marinette was the only player in the finals for both the individual and the team championship. Well, and Luka. Technically he was still part of the team, even if he wouldn’t play.

She was escorted to a small lounge area where other players had already begun to congregate. She scanned the room but didn’t see Luka. Marinette wandered back and forth aimlessly, growing more and more restless the longer they were stuck waiting, her thoughts growing scattered and fragmented and her hands starting to shake slightly. She wished she’d brought her sketchbook, or some knitting. Something, _anything_ , to vent her energy on and focus her mind.

A touch on her shoulder made her jump and she whirled around to find Luka behind her, looking surprised and then apologetic, shoulders hunching slightly. “Sorry. I called your name, but…” He shrugged and held out a bottle of water, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Marinette smiled shyly back. “Sorry, I guess I was zoned out.” She took the bottle and twisted off the cap. “Too much energy and nowhere to spend it.” She took a sip, peeking at him around the bottle. He wasn’t wearing his Viperion hoodie, but his old one, with her red stitching at the seams. She focused on the logo on his chest as she lowered the bottle. “New shirt?”

“Yeah,” Luka rolled his eyes. “The league sent it to me. Apparently they don’t want their vintage branding on the livestream tonight, so they asked me to wear the new logo.” 

Marinette huffed a quiet laugh. “Naturally.” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “The old one was better.”

“Right?” Luka groaned. “I almost wore it anyway, but…” He shrugged. “Wasn’t worth the fight, to be honest.” 

Marinette started to ask why he hadn’t worn his Viperion hoodie, but changed her mind, not sure that she wanted to know the answer. Instead she blurted, “You look good,” and promptly wanted to kick herself. He _did_ look good; the new shirt fit him better than the old one, his hair was styled more deliberately than usual and the color in it looked recently touched up, bright and vibrant. He was freshly shaved and, she was pretty sure, wearing a touch of makeup, probably to keep from looking washed out under the lights. Of course he would consider those things. Was that peach lipstick? It was a good color on him.

Oh God she was staring. 

“You do too,” Luka smiled, reaching up to brush her pigtail back behind her shoulder. Suddenly he winced and jerked his hand back quickly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—sorry if I’m—”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said, catching the hand he was pulling back. “Really, Luka, I don’t mind. I know it’s how you connect. I know you won’t do anything inappropriate, and I don’t mind the rest, so just don’t worry about it.” 

Luka relaxed, and she squeezed his hand before letting go of it. “Thanks,” he said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and stopping just in time. He tilted his head slightly, looking at Marinette, who found herself beginning to fidget again. “Are you okay?” 

Marinette smiled, but her face felt like wood. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly, and Marinette noticed absently that he was wearing eyeliner. “You don’t look fine,” he observed, and nudged the hand holding the water bottle. “Drink. It’s going to be crazy once things get going. Better to start hydrating now.” 

Marinette drank, more because she didn’t feel like arguing than from actually believing she needed it. “How can you be so calm?” she asked with a gusty sigh after she lowered the bottle.

Luka shrugged and flashed a grin. “Don’t forget I’ve done this before. Helps that I was practically raised on stage, so the lights, the effects, none of that really bothers me.” He put a hand on her shoulder and massaged gently. “I’m honestly a little surprised to see you so tense. I didn’t think anything would rattle you after seeing you up on stage before. You owned it and you didn’t look nervous at all.” 

“That was _fashion_ ,” Marinette hissed, glancing at the other competitors. “And I was _busy_. I didn’t have time to freak out. Not like this, with all the...the _waiting._ ” She tugged at her pigtails and resisted the urge to whine. “I just want to get started already! Just—all this—” she flapped her hands, trying to indicate the pent-up energy inside her. “There’s nowhere for it to go.” 

“Ah.” Luka glanced away, and then looked at her again. “I don’t know if it would help, but...want to meditate with me? I always try to meditate for at least a few minutes before I have to go on stage. Or into a competition.” 

Marinette blinked at him, for a moment and he shrugged. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine, I know it’s a little weird, to think about sitting still when you’re so worked up—” 

“No, I—that sounds good.” Marinette glanced around. “But where—” 

Luka tipped his head to indicate a direction and Marinette followed him to a corner of the lounge where there was an old, battered, but currently empty sofa. He sat down and Marinette sat next to him. She glanced around a little self-consciously but most of the competitors were focused on their own pre-game rituals. The nervous chatterers were congregated together, fidgeting back and forth as they all talked over each other. Several others had headphones and closed eyes, a couple were pacing, and the only other female competitor in the room was staring at the ground, mumbling with her eyes closed and her weight shifting from foot to foot. No one was paying the two of them any mind at all. 

“Everybody’s too worried about their own game to care what we do,” Luka murmured, slipping a guitar pick out of his pocket and rotating it in his fingers. “Don’t worry about them, just focus on you.” He held the pick between his thumb and forefinger and breathed in slowly, and then out, closing his eyes. 

Marinette watched him for a moment, then placed one hand over the other in her lap, palms up, and did the same. It took some effort to keep from fidgeting, to force the circumstances from her mind and bring her scattered focus to her breathing and the flow of her energy, but Luka’s calm presence and the slow, regular swell of his ribs moving his arm against hers, helped her settle her mind.

As she breathed, the nervous flutters ebbed. She felt more solidly in her skin than she had all day. The tension was still there, but it was more focused now, less chaotic. She felt worlds better...but a little guilty.

“You shouldn’t be helping me so much,” Marinette murmured, her eyes still closed.

Luka’s shoulder vibrated against hers as he chuckled. “Have you looked at the brackets? Clearly the marketing geniuses have been at work because we don’t face each other until the finals. I want you to be there, not flame out from nerves in your first matchup.” After a moment he added quietly, “And you’re my friend. I can’t see you unhappy and not help. You’ve done a lot for me too, you know.” 

Marinette unfolded her hands and fumbled blindly beside her. She found his forearm and slid her hand down to slip her fingers through his and squeezed. 

“I’m really glad I met you, Luka,” she whispered. “Whatever happens today, I hope we can...” She hesitated, not wanting to say _stay friends_ , because that wasn’t what she wanted. She opened one eye and peeked at him, and saw his eyes open as well as he smiled at her. His thumb caressed the back of her hand lightly.

“I hear you,” he said softly, and the drop in his voice made her insides quiver pleasantly. She was suddenly extremely aware of the rough skin of his hand enveloping hers, the warmth of where their shoulders pressed together. “I’m glad we met too. I want you to be in my life, no matter what happens today.” 

Marinette had to press her lips together to contain her smile. “Yeah...me too.” 

Luka glanced at the other players and gently extracted his hand. He took Marinette’s wrist and put her hand back on her own knee before curling his fingers back together and closing his eyes. Marinette understood, folding her hands back together and deepening her breathing again. It wouldn’t do for them to be cuddling too obviously in front of everyone else. There would already be talk, she was sure, if Ladybug and Viperion began dating after the tournament was over, no matter who won. 

But before she could think of that, she had to win.

And before she could even think about beating Luka, she had other competitors to worry about. He was right. She needed to focus and not let the situation get the better of her.

She stayed there, meditating alongside Luka, until the handlers came to get the players and walk them through their entrances and the procedures between matches. The sight of the jumbotron overhead and the giant stadium full of currently empty but soon-to-be-packed seats made Marinette’s nerves flare up again. Luka’s hand squeezed her shoulder, bringing her focus back to the moment.

“Hey,” he murmured when she looked up at him. “It’s just another match. The livestream’s just a little more up close and personal than we’re used to.” He grinned at her. “They’re all coming to see Ladybug and Viperion face off.” 

Marinette grinned back, and then brought her attention back to the handler explaining the procedure and reiterating the rules.The quarter finals and semifinals would be best two out of three, and the finals best three out of five. Matches would be held simultaneously using the pyrapods set up at ground level, and at the back, an elevated stage contained two pyrapods that would be used for the finals. 

None of this was news and Marinette was back to shifting from foot-to-foot impatiently, checking the time. Luka seemed as calm and relaxed as ever, but she could see the tightness beginning around his eyes and knew he was ready to get started too. 

Finally they were dumped back in the lounge, and Marinette went to the restroom. She’d done the rest of her routine at home, but she wanted her makeup mask fresh and bright. The ritual of putting it on, dusting the red mask across her eyes and drawing in her spots, calmed some of her resurging nerves, and when she straightened up from the mirror, Ladybug looked back at her. 

Ladybug was not going to lose because of _stage fright_.

Marinette reached back into her makeup bag and hesitated as her hand found her tube of black lipstick. She bit her lip and looked at her reflection again. The championship seemed like a bad time to be making changes, but…

Marinette swapped the black lipstick for red and painted her lips with quick, decisive movements, and then snapped the cap back on with a quiet click. She made sure her pigtails were still tight and secure, tapped her lucky earrings three times, and then zipped up her bag and went back to the lounge, already feeling more confident and ready to compete.

Luka caught her eye immediately when she stepped back inside, and she saw him grin at the change, but then the competitors were being herded out of the lounge and into the tunnel they would take into the arena.

In the chaos, she felt Luka’s hand wrap around hers and squeeze, and quickly let go. The competitors milled around in the tunnel aimlessly, well back from the fog machine spewing smoke near the entrance, until two production assistants dressed in black brusquely took charge and lined them up in a supposedly randomly generated but _very important_ order, warning them to not, under any circumstances, shuffle the order or cross the line before their names were called or move from their place in line. Marinette found herself in the middle of the line, with Luka right beside her. “Random, huh,” Luka chuckled. “Yeah, right.” 

“They’re really hyping us up,” Marinette agreed. 

“Guess we better not let them down.” Luka and Marinette exchanged a look, and then a fistbump. “See you in the finals, Ladybug,” he grinned. 

“I’ll be there,” she grinned back. “You better not stand me up, Viperion.”

“Never.” 

“Oh my God, get a room,” muttered the guy on Marinette’s other side. “You two are disgusting.” 

Marinette flushed, but Luka just chuckled again. “Aww, Pharaoh, you know I love beating you too, it’s just not in the cards today, man.”

Pharaoh scowled over Marinette’s head at him. “Kiss my ass, snake boy.” 

“Oh, when Ladybug here’s done kicking it you’re gonna need somebody to,” Luka said, winking at Marinette. “‘Fraid I’ll be busy, though. Tagger can do it for me, he’ll be free.”

“I hate you so much,” Tagger, Luka’s first round opponent, grumbled from down the line. “Fucking cocky bastard.” 

Marinette giggled, and Luka nudged her shoulder playfully with his. She looked up into his face and she could see the thrill of competition beginning to get to him, in his pirate grin and the sparkle in his eyes, and the challenge there sparked Marinette’s own competitive spirit.

“He’s not wrong,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I thought the very same thing to myself during our first match.” Luka feigned being struck in the heart. 

“Betrayal!” he laughed. “I’m not cocky, I’m right. It’s not boasting if you can back it up.” 

“You can back it up all the way to second place.” Marinette poked him in the chest and he grabbed her hand, leaning down over her with a grin.

“Don’t make me break out Max’s win percentages again.” 

“The numbers can’t help you now,” Marinette shot back, pulling her hand free. She stepped up close to him and looked up into his face, shoulders back and hands on her hips. “We’re starting with a clean slate today and all that matters is here and now. I hope you enjoyed winning all those matches, Viperion, because it’s only going to make it sweeter when I finally take you down.” 

Luka bit his lip, and Marinette quirked her eyebrow a little higher, and then Pharaoh coughed, making them both jump. “We’re still here, you know,” he said sardonically as Marinette and Luka turned away from each other, Luka clearly fighting a grin, pink coloring the high points of his cheeks, and Marinette turning a brilliant red that she could only hope would fade before she was announced.

Mercifully the announcer began calling names, distracting everyone as a murmur of excitement went down the line.

Suddenly there was no one in front of Marinette and her heart began to pound.

“Ladybug!” the announcer roared, and the crowd erupted into a deafening roar that startled her. Marinette wasn’t given time to hesitate, though; the production assistant planted a hand in the middle of her back and shoved her forward into the fog. For a moment she was blind and confused, but then she stumbled out of the fog and into the bright lights of the stadium. Marinette quickly pasted on a wide smile and raised her arms to wave with both hands to the crowd, though her knees felt like jelly at the sight of so many people and her own promo picture on the jumbotron, smirking at the camera in full makeup and a challenging posture.

Somehow she made it across the field to her mark next to Pharaoh, and then the announcer was calling Viperion, and she turned her head, clapping automatically as Luka emerged from the fog and waved, looking completely at ease with his usual relaxed smile as he sauntered over to stand next to her. Part of the stadium started up a chant for him and he waved again, ducking his head slightly. Suddenly a competing chant of _Ladybug! Ladybug!_ came up and Luka nudged her with a grin. She raised a slightly shaky hand to wave back, and then Luka made a _settle down_ gesture with his hands. Marinette copied him and the chants died down so the announcer could call the next player. 

Marinette curled her fingers together, willing herself not to take Luka’s hand or grab onto his sleeve. Beside her, Luka folded his arms, and she wondered if he was fighting the same urge to touch her. He glanced at her and then quickly away, and her cheeks warmed, and she quickly aimed her suddenly much more sincere smile at the crowd, waving again. 

“You’ve got this, Ladybug,” Viperion leaned down to whisper when the announcer dismissed them to their pods. “I’ll be cheering for you.” 

“Worry about yourself,” Ladybug grinned and winked. “Like you said, I’ve got this.” 

Viperion grinned and shook his head as they separated.

Marinette was still nervous but smiling as she stepped into her pod and picked up her headset. “Viperion’s going to be so disappointed when I beat you,” Pharaoh said as soon as the channel was active. “Poor little Ladybug’s about to get squashed.” 

Marinette snorted. “I hope your game is more interesting than your trash talk,” she snickered. “If that’s as creative as you can get this is going to be really _boring_.” Pharaoh spluttered and Marinette grinned as the countdown began to blink. The controller in her hands felt like a part of her by now, and she bounced on her toes a little, eager for things to finally begin.

It wasn’t easy; crappy trash talk aside, Pharaoh was a highly ranked player and skilled enough to be a challenge. It was a perfect first match for her, actually, because she had to think to beat him and once her mind was focused and fully immersed in the game, she overcame the few mistakes she’d made early on. She was grinning broadly as she stepped out of the pod and raised her arms to acknowledge the cheers that followed when the announcer boomed out her name as the winner. Even as she did, though, she was looking for the leaderboard on the giant screen above them. At first she saw only her own flushed and happy face, but then the leaderboard reappeared, Viperion’s name blinking and then advancing to the next level. 

“Yes!” Marinette squealed, jumping up and down in place. She whipped her head towards Luka’s pod and watched him emerge. He looked up immediately just as she had, and punched the air and looked back at her with a broad grin. They both stood and watched as one by one the other players turned red or blinked green and advanced. 

Like Kagami’s party, like her presentation and fashion show, everything seemed to go by in a whirl and a blur. Months of preparation and planning and practice and the slow-motion _waiting_ of the morning gave way to a heart-pounding, adrenaline-pumping whirl as she faced down match after match, dominating some and barely squeaking by others. Before she knew it, she was staring up at the jumbotron while the crowd screamed and the announcer cried, “And this is what we’ve all been waiting for, this is what we all came here to see! The final matchup in the Master League Championship will be! Ladybug! Versus! Viperioooooooon!”

Marinette raised her arms and waved with both hands again as the crowd cheered then she was being ushered off the field, back into the tunnel and then to the backstage area to wait while the runners up duked it out for third and fourth place and the crew made sure everything was set up for the final.

Marinette stared up at the steps to the stage and felt herself start to shake. She didn’t even notice Luka speaking at her side until he took her arm and turned her to face him. 

“Marinette, are you okay?” he asked, the grin quickly dropping from his face as he looked at her.

“Yeah,” she said, trying to smile. “I’m f-fine.” 

“You’re pale as a ghost.” Luka’s expression was grave and worried and he pulled her over to a chair and pushed her into it. “Sit. Breathe, Marinette. Are you dizzy?” 

“I’m fine,” Marinette said, trying to take his advice and slow her breathing. “I’m okay. I just...I need a second.” 

She felt Luka move away, but he was back in moments, kneeling in front of her to press a bottle of water into her hand. “Drink,” he ordered, helping her sit up. “Look at me.” He put his fingers under her chin and gently tipped it up so he could look into her eyes. “You’re sure you’re okay? Do you need the medic?” 

“No,” Marinette said, taking a deep breath before lifting the water to her trembling lips. “I’m all right, Luka.” She drank and then sighed. “That was just _really_ intense.” She shot a sardonic smile up at him. “It felt really good though.” 

Luka grinned as he took her hand between both of his and rubbed it gently. “It’s a rush, no doubt.” 

Marinette took another drink and mumbled weakly, “Gonna be even better when I beat you.” 

Luka laughed softly and leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. Something about that touch was very comforting and she leaned into it. “I’m gonna give you a fight, I hope you know that,” Luka told her. “I’m not going to just hand it to you because you’re—” He paused, and Marinette back to look at him. He brought a hand up to cup her cheek, and Marinette wasn’t sure what might have happened if the production assistants hadn’t come looking for them just then. Luka stood up quickly, turning away from her for a moment, and Marinette put a hand over her chest, feeling the frantic flutter of her heart against her palm. 

“Head in the game, Ladybug,” Marinette murmured to herself before she shoved up out of her chair, shaking out her limbs and noting that at least her hands weren’t trembling anymore. 

It was time. The handlers lined them up shoulder to shoulder, in front of a fog-covered arch similar to the one on the field. 

Luka caught her hand and Marinette let him lace their fingers together. His hold was tighter than she expected and she glanced up at him. That competition spark was in his eyes and she could see the tension across his shoulders. He really was pumped up for this. 

He let go of her hand before they walked out together through the fog, waving at the cheering. The lights were hotter and brighter on the stage and Marinette’s nerves increased. She turned to shake hands with Luka and met his eyes, feeling like she was standing outside of her body, but simultaneously hyper aware of his touch and the blue of his eyes and the quirk of his smile before his hand slid away and they each turned to get into their pyrapods. 

Marinette came back to herself a bit when the pod slid closed behind her, shutting out the lights and the noise. She became aware of how fast she was breathing and made an effort to slow it down before she picked up her headset and put it on. 

“Hanging in there, Bug?” Luka asked, and though his voice was teasing she knew he was checking on her.

“You wanted it,” she replied, “I’m gonna bring it.”

“Show me what you got, Ladybug,” he chuckled, and Marinette grinned, pleased that he remembered after all this time. “I can take it.”

The countdown flashed on the screen, and Marinette took one last deep breath. “It’s been a long time since that first match,” Marinette pointed out with a smile. “I’m not the same newbie you played back then.”

“I know,” he said, and she could see his pirate grin in her mind (and she was kind of glad she couldn’t see it projected on the big screen outside; at that magnitude it might actually kill her). “I can’t wait.”

Once they started playing, there was no time to think about anything but the game. 

Luka won the first match, and Marinette couldn’t help her sigh, annoyed with herself. She’d been nervous and jumpy in the beginning and it had cost her. She and Luka were so evenly matched at this point that both knew they couldn’t give an inch or make a single mistake. She was going to have to do better. 

“It’s just the first match,” she heard Luka say over her headset, and she wasn’t sure if it was meant to comfort her or steady him. 

“I never thought it would be easy,” Marinette replied, and then smiled. “So let’s give the people the show they came for.” 

“You know it,” he laughed.

The next match was closer but Luka won that one too, and Marinette bit her lip hard, fighting the churning feeling in her stomach. If she lost the next one, that was it; she couldn’t afford to lose any more. 

Luka groaned as the third match ended. “Man, how do you _do_ that. I was sure I had you there.” 

“I’m full of surprises,” Marinette replied, putting down the controller and shaking out her hands. They trembled slightly from the close call; he really _had_ almost had her, and that would have been the end.

“You really are,” Luka chuckled. “Playing you is never boring, that’s for sure. Okay, just one more match to go.” 

“Oh, don’t count your trophies before they’re in the case,” Marinette muttered, narrowing her eyes though a smile tugged at her mouth. “No way I’m letting you take it that easily.”

“We’ll see,” Luka said, and then the countdown started again. 

The fourth match turned out to be an easy win for Marinette; Luka misjudged his timing early on and Marinette gave him no time to recover.

Marinette had to take a few more deep breaths as they prepared for the fifth and final match. Her stomach felt like jelly but her hands were steady. One more. She just had to beat him one more time. Either way, all of this would be over soon. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that so she pushed it aside, needing all her focus for the game. 

It was close, it was so close. Both of them had just a sliver of health left and Marinette was starting to panic. She’d managed to deflect his first venom strike, but the fight had gone on long enough that the ability had recharged and she hadn’t been able to dodge a second time. He didn’t even have to land another attack; if he held her off long enough, he would win with the recurring damage from the venom strike. She needed to take him out, but he kept interrupting her attacks, taking low level damage from her defensive moves to prevent her from getting a combo attack together. He was gambling that he could hold out until the venom strike wiped out the last of her health bar, and it was a bet he was going to win if Marinette couldn’t get off a decent attack. 

She bit her lip and tried to think. His armor has always been his weak point; she just needed to get one killer combo off and he’d be finished. Luka knew it, too. If he failed to interrupt her even once she’d take him out. Every time he attacked her directly, though, he took damage from her shields and counterattack. He could keep gambling on his health to hold out until the venom strike, or if he timed it just right, he could get his stun attack off and freeze her. If he could get the move off, she’d be held just long enough for the venom strike to finish her. 

But he couldn’t interrupt her attacks while he was charging the ability. If he tried it, and she was fast enough...she’d have to be so fast. It would have to be bug bombs, they were the fastest, and they should be enough. She’d have to be ready and watching, and...

_Will he still want to be with me if I beat him? Or will I just be another girl that ruined his dreams?_

The thought was both terrifying and unwelcome but even as it hit her, she saw Viperion draw back and begin to charge a glowing ball between his hands. Marinette had no time to deliberate, no time for hesitation. Her fingers moved and her mech exploded into action. She executed the attack and dropped the controller, grabbing her hair with her hands as she watched.

The stun left Viperion’s hands—and her bug bombs landed. Even as her mech froze in place, Viperion went down in a series of dramatic explosions. 

The screen flashed _GAME OVER_. It flashed up a picture of her mech with the word WINNER over and over.

“Holy sh—,” she heard Luka whisper, but the channel cut off.

She won.

She _won._

Numbly she reached up and took off her headset as the pod door slid open behind her. 

She stepped out shakily, looking up uncomprehendingly at the crowd.

Across from her, Luka’s pod door was sliding open. The second there was room, Luka exploded out, leaping out with one of his deafening whoops as he caught her up in a bearhug that nearly took the breath from her. He swung her around. 

“That was amazing,” he shouted, nearly in her ear to be heard over the crowd. “I thought there was no way you could get an attack off fast enough, but you knew—you knew I was going to do it, didn’t you, you were ready, you’re so incredible—” 

“Luka,” Marinette gasped, and laughing, Luka set her down on her feet.

Before Marinette could do more than gasp in a breath, he had ducked down and—well she wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but suddenly she shrieked as he ducked his head under her leg and somehow managed to lift her onto his shoulders despite her flailing. He caught her hands and steadied her, and then let go of one hand to pump his fist in the air and cheer for her. Marinette kept a death grip on his other hand but she managed to smile and reach up to wave at the crowd, letting out a breathless laugh once the shock wore off. The crowd was cheering and her face was on the jumbotron, smiling but still looking more stunned than victorious. Luka turned in a slow circle so she could wave at the whole crowd until her arm was sore. 

It took her a minute to realize the announcer was trying to get her attention. “Ladybug, _you_ are the Ultimate Mecha Strike III regional champion! Congratulations! How do you feel right now?” A slightly hysterical giggle escaped her at the way he had to hold the microphone up above his head to catch her answer. 

“I feel amazing, but my day isn't over yet,” she laughed. 

“That’s right, we’ll see you as part of Team Lucky Charm in the team competition later tonight! We’ll be looking forward to that. Viperion, you and Ladybug have had quite the rivalry going on and you were heavily the favorite to win coming into this event. How do you feel about taking second place tonight?” 

“I can’t be sore about a loss like that,” Luka laughed. “Of course I wanted to win, but—” He shook her head. “You can’t deny that was brilliant.” He patted Marinette’s leg on his shoulder. “Congratulations, Ladybug. The best player definitely won today.” 

“All right, look for more exclusive interview content with Ladybug and Viperion on the blog later tonight,” the announcer said into the microphone, looking up into the crowd. “We’re going to take a short recess to get things ready here and then we’ll be back to bring you the Master League team championship. “Congratulations again, Ladybug and Viperion.” 

He gestured them back towards the arch, and Luka carried Marinette back through it, both of them waving at the crowd as they went.

Marinette’s legs felt like jelly as she scrambled down from Luka’s shoulders, and he held her elbows as she swayed slightly, and when she was steady he hugged her tight. “Congratulations.”

“You’re not mad?” she asked softly, looking up at him through her lashes.

Luka curled a finger under her chin and tipped her face up so that she was looking at him more directly. “I’m not mad,” he promised, and the soft smile he gave her and the gentle look in his eyes made her believe him. “I’ll be disappointed, probably, tomorrow. I’ll have to scale back my plans. But that’s okay. I took a chance and it didn’t work out in my favor. You played your best. No regrets here. I’m so happy for you, too, and impressed, and…” he paused, and took a deep breath. “I’m _definitely_ not mad.” His hand moved up to cup her cheek, and his thumb brushed over her face for a moment. 

“Viperion, Ladybug! Press room, let’s go.” 

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, but Luka just chuckled and put a hand on her arm. She went with him a little numbly until they were separated for the post-game interviews. Marinette wasn’t sure anything she said was coherent, but she had enough presence of mind to work in a mention of the bakery and her fashion business, so hopefully it wasn’t a total loss. 

“I’m sure you did great,” Luka told her as they walked out. 

“I hope so,” Marinette sighed, putting a hand against her forehead and flapping her hoodie to get some air under it. “But it’s over now, so no point in worrying about it.” 

“Yeah,” Luka smiled, and then nudged her shoulder with his arm. “I guess you better go. You’re not done yet, remember?” 

“Yeah,” Marinette nodded, turning to face her. “But...you’re going to stay, right?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Luka grinned. “I’ll be cheering you on, no fear. And...I’ll be here after. Assuming you still want to talk?” 

“I do,” Marinette said quickly, blushing. 

“Okay then. You go get ready and find Max, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Marinette whispered, and rose on her toes to quickly kiss his cheek before following a production assistant with a clipboard back to the player lounge.

Max nearly knocked her over in his enthusiasm as soon as she walked in, and she clung to the back of his hoodie, laughing incredulously. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispered. 

“I believe the evidence is irrefutable,” Max pointed out, and Marinette rolled her eyes, pushing him away. 

“You changed your lipstick,” Max observed as she looked up at him, and Marinette’s fingers flew to her mouth. 

“Oh, I forgot. I can—I can go change it back, if you’re afraid it’ll jinx us—” She knew how Max would react as soon as she said the words and pouted while he snorted with laughter.

“I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think the color of your lipstick will be the deciding factor,” Max snickered, and Marinette shoved him, making him stagger.

“Jerk,” she muttered. 

“I bet Luka liked it,” Max observed smugly, and Marinette’s face flamed red. 

“We’re not going to win this tournament if I break your arm before it starts,” she threatened, punching Max (lightly, as she knew her skinny friend bruised easily) in the arm. 

“I’m sure Luka would comfort y—ow!”

The waiting dragged on again but at least this time she had Max to talk to and strategize with. Once they walked out of the stupid fog tunnel, the whirl began again. It wasn’t any easier, Marinette found, but this time it was Max, confident in his calculations and their abilities, who was her steadying influence. She had more leeway, too, with Max there, they could cover for each other's mistakes. It felt like only moments before they were ushered into the backstage area, waiting to face their final opponents. Marinette felt a bit shaky and weak in the knees again from the rush, but this time she sat herself down and breathed through it while Max paced, muttering strategy and calculations to himself.

Someone cleared their throat beside her and Marinette looked up to find Luka standing there. _Now_ he was wearing his Viperion hoodie, his face made up in a very good approximation of the mask Marinette had put on him when they played together, and he grinned widely at Marinette’s staring eyes. “Surprise.” 

Marinette sputtered for a moment, leaping to her feet as Max reversed his pacing and came over. “What are you—how did you even get back here?” 

Luka shrugged, still grinning. “I’m on the team roster so I’m cleared to be here. I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he said, addressing them both though his eyes kept coming back to Marinette. “Not that you need it. I um, I hope this is okay.” He gestured vaguely at himself, and Marinette shut her gaping mouth with a snap. “I didn’t feel right wearing it while we were going head to head, but I just...I wanted to be here and support you guys as much as I could.” He held out his hand to Max, though he sent a worried-looking glance at Marinette, who couldn’t seem to move. 

“Absolutely,” Max said, stepping forward to meet Luka’s fistbump as if he didn’t notice Marinette was suddenly paralyzed next to him. “You’re a part of this team, and it wouldn’t feel right doing this without you.” 

Luka shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t do that much.” 

Marinette’s mouth dropped open again, this time in outrage, but Max beat her to it. “Don’t conflate the magnitude of the effort with its importance,” he told Luka, reaching out to pat his arm awkwardly. Luka’s eyes flicked to Marinette for a moment and she could see his amusement, though he kept a straight face. “Without your assistance we would never have finished the tournament in such an advantageous position for the finals,” Max continued, drawing his hand back to adjust his dark glasses. “We are indeed grateful and your position as a teammate is by no means honorary. I hope when we emerge victorious, you will join us in the awards ceremony.” 

“Oh, I—” Luka looked thrown, but Marinette nodded enthusiastically, catching his arm and squeezing it.

“Max is right. You belong up there with us.” She aimed a reassuring smile at him. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

The tension left Luka’s shoulders and he started to say something, but he was cut off.

“Team Lucky Charm!” the man with the clipboard shouted without actually looking at them. “Prep for entry. Go up the stage steps but do _not_ cross the yellow line until you’re announced.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly, and her whole body tensed. Once again she put a hand over her wildly beating heart and tried to breathe. One more time. She just had to face the lights and the screaming one more time.

Luka’s hand covered hers on his arm and Marinette realized she was digging her fingers into his sleeve. “Hey,” he said, gently detaching her fingers from his sleeve. “You’ve got this. Just like before, right? Own it.” He drew her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips lightly. Warmth spread from her fingers down her arm and through her body, pooling in her face and stomach. “Come on, before Max leaves you behind,” Luka said, letting go of her hand and placing his on her lower back, pressing gently until she began to move. He walked with her to the bottom of the stage’s metal stairs behind Max, who was marching forward with determination, confident that the numbers were on their side and determined not to be swayed by something as illogical as stage fright.

Marinette paused at the bottom of the stairs, Luka’s hand still warm on her back, her heart beating wildly in her throat. 

“Remember,” Luka soothed from behind her. “All you have to do is get across the stage and it doesn’t matter how. Once you’re in the pod you’ll forget everything else, just like before. Besides,” he grinned. “They’re just people. You’re the champion.” 

Marinette turned impulsively and hugged him tight. “Thank you,” she muttered, not quite daring to press her face into his chest. Luka’s hands went to her shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you for everything today.

“You’ve got this,” he repeated, sliding his hands down to her arms and shifting her gently back until she stepped up onto the first step, and once her eyes were level with his it became a little easier to breathe in the face of his calm confidence. “Whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen, right? So just get out there and _play_.” He grinned. “Good luck, Ladybug.” 

Marinette felt an answering smile growing on her face.

“Marinette!” Max called from where he was waiting near the top of the stairs. “Hurry up!”

Marinette looked up at Max as Luka let go of her, but she turned back quickly, grabbed Luka’s face in her hands, and pressed her lips hard to his. He made a startled noise, and when she would have pulled back his hand came up to cradle the back of her head, prolonging the kiss as he swayed after her. Max hissed her name again from the top of the stairs and Luka let her go, breathing hard, something kindling in his blue eyes that made her flush and grin stupidly back at him. 

Then Max was grabbing her arm and hauling her, stumbling, back up the stairs with him. “The sooner you two have that talk, the better,” he muttered as they went up the last few steps together, Marinette trying to contain the stupid grin that kept wanting to break out on her face. "May I remind you we have a competition to win? The sooner it’s over, the sooner you two can go make out in a supply closet.”

“Max!” Marinette whisper-shouted in horror, and Max just grinned. 

“Win first,” he told her, adjusting his horseshoe pendant. “Kisses later.” 

Before she could retort, the announcer roared out, “Team _Luckyyyyyy Chaaaarm!_ ” and there was no more time to think about anything besides the bright lights and roaring crowd, and then the blink of the countdown and the hard plastic of the controller against her palms.

* * *

Luka was waiting when Marinette came flying down the stairs, a laughing Max following in her wake. 

This time she leapt into his arms, making him stagger, and her feet never touched the ground as he laughed and spun her around. He bounced her a couple of times before she let her feet drop to the floor and gave him enough room to share a fistbump and back-slapping hug with Max. 

Then everything was a whirl again, as all three of them were ushered to the press room for interviews and soundbites, and Marinette wasn’t sure whether she managed to get out anything coherent or not. She and Max both kept a hold on Luka, dragging him into the interviews with them, and they presented as a team. Luka’s experience bailed them out a couple of times when unexpected questions gave them pause, and his hand on her back was steadying when she started to stammer. Marinette paused and took a breath and steadied her voice before answering the next question. 

“You guys did great,” Luka murmured when they were finally released, and then there was another flood of bodies on them, and Alya was screaming in her ear and Max’s mother was screaming in his and then Kim wrapped his arms around both Max and Mrs. Kante just as Marinette’s dad did the same to her and Alya, and for a few moments it was a fight to breathe. Marinette saw a flash of Juleka’s purple hair and heard the Captain’s voice boom but everyone was talking at once and Marinette was too overwhelmed to focus on any of it.

Finally, the families were ushered back out to the stands with instructions to be back in their seats in forty-five minutes for the official awards ceremony. As the room began to clear out, leaving the top players milling around with varying expressions of elation and exhaustion. Marinette looked around and found Luka. He was looking right at her, and when their eyes met he tipped his head slightly and indicated the doors. Marinette nodded, heart suddenly in her throat, and Luka flashed her a quick grin before turning away. 

“Max,” Marinette whispered watching Luka slip out of the doors, “What are my odds?”

“The human heart is impossible to calculate, Marinette,” Max said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Although that kiss would argue for a positive response.” He squeezed her shoulder lightly. “No matter what happens, I support you one hundred percent.”

Marinette’s brain was already humming, giving her a list of excuses and reasons why it would be better to put this off, starting with the looming awards ceremony and moving on from there, but Max’s hand on her shoulder and Kagami’s words in her mind got her moving forward. No more hesitation. 

Marinette wormed her way through the bodies between her and the door and slipped out. She nearly collided with Luka, who was clearly waiting for her. He flashed her a grin and caught her hand, tugging her down the hallway. 

“Luka, where are we going?” Marinette hissed as he walked quickly, pulling her along.

“Somewhere we can talk,” he told her, keeping his voice quiet. “Just don’t make too much noise, okay?” 

Marinette frowned. “We better not really end up in a supply closet.” 

“What?” Luka nearly choked trying to muffle his laughter. “No, I promise, I can do better than that. My mom’s played this arena a couple of times, I know my way around.”

“But—” Marinette began, but then closed her mouth as Luka opened the door to a stairwell and started up it. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be up here,” she whispered as Luka checked the floor number and peeked through the window of the door. 

“Nope,” he grinned, opening the door and motioning her through. “Do you trust me?”

She did, so she went through. “We’re not going to the roof this time, are we?” she asked skeptically, and Luka chuckled. 

“Not this time.” She followed him down a dimly lit hallway and did her best not to squeal in incredulous dismay as he jimmied a door lock with a credit card. 

“All the security on the entrances, and crap locks up here,” he said, swinging the door open. “Typical.” 

“I didn’t realize you were a cat burglar in your spare time,” Marinette muttered as he took her hand and drew her inside what turned out to be some kind of private viewing lounge. She could see through the big windows down into the stadium, and the room was scattered with couches and cocktail tables. 

“Nah,” Luka laughed quietly through his nose, slipping his wallet back into his pocket. “I’m a pirate.” 

Marinette looked at him, and he winked at her with _that_ grin, and she couldn’t help breaking into giggles. “You are, aren’t you,” she laughed, covering her mouth. Luka snickered with her, and for a moment they could only stand there trying to stifle their laughter. Luka made no move to turn the lights on, probably to keep anyone from noticing that the room was occupied, but there was enough light from the windows that they didn’t need it, and eventually their laughter died down, and they were left just looking at each other. 

Luka cleared his throat, pulling two bottles of water from the pockets of his hoodie. He held one out to her and she took it gratefully, suddenly aware she was parched. 

“I feel like you’ve been taking care of me all day,” Marinette said, stifling more slightly hysterical giggles, and Luka grinned at her. 

“Sorry. Big brother thing I guess. Or...well, maybe not,” he blushed and looked away. “I just know you’ve been pushing yourself a lot lately, and today was…” He blew out a breath and shook his head with a grin. “A lot. It can really take it out of you if you’re not taking care of yourself, so...sorry if I’ve been pushy.” 

Marinette smiled at him over the rim of her water bottle as he reached to twist the cap off his own. “I didn’t mi—whoa, are you okay?” she reached out to steady him as he suddenly fumbled it, spilling water over his hands. 

“Fine,” he said, a little too quickly, shaking the water off his hand without looking at her. “I’m fine.” He took a drink and then coughed, and Marinette pounded his back, concerned. 

“Geeze, slow down,” she said, torn between amusement and exasperation. “Maybe somebody ought to be taking care of you.”

He coughed through an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry. God, you always catch me off guard.” 

Marinette blushed, though she didn’t understand exactly what he meant. Getting control of himself he added quickly, “Congratulations. You and Max both did amazing. I think I screamed myself hoarse cheering you on.” 

Marinette hunched her shoulders slightly with a pleased smile. “You did really great too. I can’t wait to watch the replays, I heard you destroyed Desperada in the second round.”

Luka winced. “Yeah, that was rough, our skills just…” He shook his head. “She’s an amazing player with what she’s got but she’s basically never beaten me because of the way our stats stack up. She’s done so well, I hated for her to go down like that, but…” He shrugged and grinned. “I did what I had to do. Wasn’t going to miss going up against you in the final.”

Marinette grinned back, and then dropped her gaze, a silence falling between them that threatened to become awkward if one of them didn’t find a way to start. Determined that it would be her, Marinette began in a rush. “Um. Well I wanted to—we haven’t really talked, a-about, and we said we would, and I know maybe it might seem like we don’t need to, and, well this might not actually be the _best_ time but if we wait for the perfect moment it’ll never happen, and I know we, uh, _before_ , and then tonight, and so maybe we don’t need to but I just, I hate it when there are all these misunderstandings because people don’t talk and we should talk and—stop laughing!”

“Sorry,” Luka said, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth as he continued to chuckle. “I can’t help it. I’m happy and you’re really cute.” 

“Damn it,” she hissed, reaching up with both hands to pull on her pigtails in frustration, “I’m so bad at this!”

“You’re doing fine,” Luka said, taking the bottle of water from her and setting both hers and his on one of the tables. He stepped closer and put both hands on her shoulders, and rubbed lightly. “I can go first if you’d rather.” 

Marinette groaned and buried her face in her hands, suddenly mortifyingly close to tears. She was being an idiot. He’d _kissed_ her, and let her kiss him, and acted like he wanted to _keep_ kissing her, and with the texts during the week, and the way he’d been smiling at her all night, and he came to her fashion show, and bringing her up here and the way he was acting now, he really couldn’t be more clear, so why was she still so terrified? 

“Marinette,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate, “Listen, I think you’re—”

“No!” she yelled, throwing out her hands and stepping back from him, breaking his hold on her shoulders. “No, I have to do this, please.” 

God, she was going to ruin everything, he must think she was insane. There was no way that she could explain to him the utter train wreck that had been her years-long crush-obsession with Adrien Agreste, all the things she’d said and completely failed to say, all the time she’d spent analyzing their least little interactions, all the times she’d practically _stalked_ him only to lose her courage and lie at the last minute, until finally, finally, the words passed her lips in a jumbled wreck and were met with— 

She peeked one eye open and could see that Luka was looking at her with concern. His eyes were blue and not green, his hair dark and not blond, and the expression on his face was concern and empathy and not blank confusion.

It wasn’t the same. She could do this. It wouldn’t be the same. It wasn’t the same. _She_ wasn’t the same.

“Are you sure?” Luka said hesitantly. “If it’s this hard for you, then—I mean I thought you’d know by now that I—but you don’t have to say anything you’re not ready for, you know that, right?” 

“No, it’s not that, and it’s not you, it’s me, and I need to deal with it. Please, Luka,” Marinette added desperately. She needed to put this ghost to rest and this was the only way she knew how.

“Okay. Okay, Marinette.” He reached up and took her hands, tugging them gently away from her face and then pulling her over to sit on one of the small couches. “I’m listening. Do what you need to do.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, slumping back for a minute. “It’s just, the last time I did something like this it...it didn’t go so well and I know this is different, I do, but it’s...it’s hard. But I want to. I want to do it. I...I kind of need this, Luka.”

“Okay.” Luka slid a little closer, his hands still wrapped around hers. “I hear you. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Right,” Marinette whispered, half to herself. “Okay.” Luka squeezed her hands and she realized they were shaking. She needed to get this over with before she went completely to pieces. Why did he always have that effect on her?

No.

 _Adrien_ had that effect on her. 

Luka—Marinette forced herself to raise her eyes to Luka’s, and saw only warmth and encouragement there. She straightened and put her shoulders back and took a breath to steady herself, though the shaking didn’t stop.

“I r-really like you, Luka,” she began, wincing slightly at the stutter and feeling her lips begin to tremble too. “You’ve been a wonderful teammate and a good f-friend, but you’re—” She swallowed hard; this was too close, too close to the words she’d used back then, but it was too late, she had to keep going. “You’re so much more than a friend to me,” she went on in a rush. “At least, I—I want you to be. S-so maybe, if you, um, if you want to, maybe we could go out. Sometime. On a date. A real date, not a just-friends date.” She squeezed her eyes shut and looked down quickly, face burning, suddenly feeling totally inept and like a complete fool and what had she been _thinking_ — 

“Yeah.”

Marinette looked up. “What?” Luka was grinning broadly, and he looked oddly...proud. Of her? 

Maybe he really was as perceptive as Juleka said.

Shit he was talking, she should listen. 

“I said yes. Yes, hell yeah, I’d love to go out with you.” 

Marinette blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Luka laughed at the look on her face. “You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Smart, sassy, gorgeous, tough, incredibly brave, why wouldn’t I go out with you? Do you really think I’m that big an idiot?” 

She gaped at him like a fish.

“Can it be my turn now?” Luka asked, when she didn’t find anything to say, and she nodded dumbly, not entirely sure her soul was still inhabiting her body.

Luka leaned toward her and gently framed her face in his hands. “Marinette, these last few months have been the best I’ve had in a long time and you’ve been a huge part of that, as an opponent and a friend and...honestly the more time I spend with you the more amazing you are to me. I know there’s probably still a lot we don’t know about each other, but I want to. I want you to know me, and I want to know you. All of you. I want to be an expert in Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

Marinette had to giggle at that, slapping her hand over her mouth in horror at the high-pitched girly sound of it. Luka’s grin widened as he shook his head and pulled her hand away from her mouth, threading his fingers through hers and lowering their hands to his lap. “Don’t cover it up, it’s so pretty,” he told her, and his slow grin set off an entirely different panic as he tipped her chin up with his free hand, brushing his thumb lightly across her lips. “I was right about the red,” he said, and when did his face get so close, oh no, but also yes, but wait was this too soon or should she—but she wanted to and if _he_ wanted to then that was good enough, right? ”Can I kiss you now?”

“Okay,” she said shakily, and he leaned in slowly, watching her face. 

“You sure?” he said, pausing and sitting back a bit. “You don’t look like you—”

As she stared at Luka frowning with concern because he thought she didn’t want to kiss him, there was almost an audible snap in her head as the past settled back where it belonged and the now became sharp and clear. What the hell was she doing?

Marinette grabbed the front of Luka’s hoodie and dragged him forward. “Get over here,” she ordered, though the breathiness in her voice took a lot of the force out of it. It was enough, though, Luka closed the distance with a desperate little noise and their lips met once, twice, three times in hard, passionate kisses, before finally settling together into something softer but no less heated. The hand under her chin slid up to flatten along the side of her throat, and then slid farther back to curl around the back of her neck, Luka’s thumb brushing her jaw as he tilted her back. He was kissing her like—like— 

Like he really did like her as much as she liked him, like he meant all those things he said to her, like he’d been thinking about it for a while now— 

And he was really good at it, she acknowledged dizzily as his lips began coaxing hers to open. 

But hell if she was going to let him run the show. She nipped his lower lip and he startled slightly. Grinning in the small space that granted her, Marinette wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled the other free from his hand to grab the back of the couch and pull, forcing him back as she straightened and rolled up to her knees so that he was the one with his head tilted back, and only then did she part her lips and slide her tongue into his mouth, hands moving to hold his face at just the right angle. The strangled noise he made and the way he grabbed at her hips was very satisfying. It felt so good to get some _payback_ after all the time she’d spent agonizing over her crush on him. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of the way his hands were scrabbling against her, trying to pull her into his lap. 

She broke the kiss, laughing when he tried to follow her to prolong it. “Easy, we still have to go back in public after this,” she teased, and Luka groaned, letting his head fall back against the bench.

“Fuck me,” he muttered breathlessly, and Marinette snorted, leaning against him.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?” she scoffed, and Luka’s eyes flew open. 

“No, no, _God,_ no, I didn’t mean, I wouldn’t—” 

Marinette let him stammer for another few moments out of pure revenge for all those times he had grinned at her while she tripped over her tongue, before she leaned in and kissed him, softly this time. “Shut up and put yourself back together, _Viperion_ , we still have an awards ceremony to get through.” 

“ _Shit._ ” Luka let go of her and covered his face with his hands. “I’m gonna need a minute.” 

Marinette put her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh but she couldn’t help it. She was just so happy. Luka dropped his hands and grinned at her, reaching out to snag her around the waist and pull her close, kissing her even as she continued to laugh, pure joy singing from her soul as she pretended to dodge him. He planted kisses on her jaw and her neck as she squealed and tried half-heartedly to wriggle away before giving up and turning to kiss him again on the mouth, and then again, and then again, slow, deep kisses. 

“What?” she asked as Luka chuckled against her mouth. 

“Nothing,” he sighed, nudging his nose against hers. “Just feeling lucky I guess. I’m so happy, Marinette.” 

Marinette smiled, but they did need to be getting back, so she pushed his hands away for real and slid off the couch.

She bit her lip in amusement when Luka whined, leaning his elbows on the back of the couch and letting his head hang back. “Do we have to?” he groaned. “I really hate ceremonies.”

“Yes,” Marinette grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him up off the couch. “I want to see you up there, right in the number two spot where you belong.” 

“Oh, low,” Luka laughed, dragging his feet as she tugged him towards the door. “Wait, wait.” He pulled his hand free and turned back to grab their water. “Never leave evidence behind,” he said, handing her one of the bottles with a wink. “Especially not evidence with lipstick stains.” 

Marinette giggled. “Wait, is that why you—” 

“No comment,” Luka said, cheeks reddening as he threw the incriminating evidence in the hallway’s recycling bin.

They weren’t very sneaky coming back down the stairs, giggling and snuggling and nearly tripping more than once because they were standing too close together. 

When they emerged into the full light of the hallway outside of the lounge, Luka looked at Marinette and smirked. “Hey Ladybug.” 

“Hmm?” Marinette raised her eyebrows.

Luka leaned in and kissed her until they were both breathless. “Fix your lipstick,” he whispered against her lips, and laughed as Marinette cursed and jerked back, slapping a hand over her mouth. Her red lipstick had held up to the relatively innocent kisses backstage, but now it was smeared all over his mouth, blended with the peach he’d been wearing, and her face couldn’t possibly look any better. Luka burst out laughing at her expression, and Marinette began to giggle again too. 

“Here, I have some wipes,” he managed to say at last, pulling a packet of makeup remover wipes from his back pocket. “Let me help.” 

“You should, since it was your fault,” Marinette shot back, taking the packet from him and pulling a wipe free. She pouted as Luka snatched it back from her fingers, but she didn’t really mean it, and she let him take her chin in his hand and tilt her face up.

“I’m not even sorry,” Luka chuckled, eyes on her lips as he gently wiped away the smears. “I’ll buy you a better brand.” He winked, and then his humor settled into a quiet contentment that shone in his face. “That was pretty amazing, Marinette. I hope we can do it again sometime soon. Maybe I could take you out to dinner and—”

“Marinette!” Max called, bursting out of the doors down the hall and looking around for a moment before spotting them. His shoulders slumped in relief. “There you are! You weren’t answering your phone, I was getting concerned. It’s almost time.”

Luka winced, going to work quickly on his own face. “Busted,” he murmured, and Marinette could hear the laughter in his voice.

Marinette snorted. “Like he didn’t already know. He’s been teasing me about you since we met.” She raised her voice and called, “We’re coming.” She took Luka’s hand and tugged him along with her back to the doors where Max was waiting. 

Max adjusted his glasses and looked at his phone. “We’re due for the ceremony in two minutes and forty-five seconds.” 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Marinette smiled. “I’m good to go, I just need to grab my makeup bag and fix my lipstick.”

Luka made a noise that sounded suspiciously like choked laughter, but Marinette didn’t look at him, squeezing his hand tight enough that he winced. 

“Oh, you left it on the drink table earlier, I picked it up for you,” Max said, pulling her lipstick tube out of his pocket and coming down the hallway to meet him. “It looks good to me, though, are you sure you want to take the time?”

Luka coughed into his hand, obviously trying not to laugh, but Max didn’t even glance at him.

“It’ll only be a second,” Marinette said, taking the tube from him. She opened it and paused as they reached the doors, using her reflection in the window to apply her lipstick over her naturally reddened lips. She could see Luka over her shoulder finger-combing his hair back into place. She capped the tube and handed it to Luka with a wink. “Hold onto it for me? I have a feeling I might need it again later.”

“Sure,” Luka grinned, and reached around her to pull the door open. “Just find me whenever you’re ready to need a touch up.” 

It was Marinette’s turn to choke on a laugh, while Max threw Luka a slightly puzzled glance, but clearly dismissed his odd phrasing in favor of ushering them all back into the ceremony. Marinette grinned. _Max might think he’s all worldly, but when he’s focused on something he doesn’t notice_ **_anything_ ** _._

* * *

They made it through the awards ceremony and almost an hour of the afterparty, accepting congratulations and fistbumps and handshakes and ribbing (mostly good-natured, some not so much, but Marinette had never cared less in her life than she did at that moment). Then someone on the game committee stood up to make a speech and Marinette saw her opportunity. She grabbed the lapel of Luka’s hoodie and tugged lightly. He met her gaze and grinned, following her pull willingly. 

She ducked into a shadowed hall, pulling him just beyond the light from the party, and as soon as she leaned back against the wall he was bending over her, though the kiss he laid on her lips was soft and gentle and over much too quickly. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, with a lopsided grin. “That was kind of presumptuous I guess.” 

Marinette grabbed the lapels of his hoodie and pulled him in for another soft kiss. “Maybe. I don’t mind though.”

“I really like you, Marinette,” Luka said, one hand finding her hip while the other leaned on the wall beside her. “In case I didn’t make that clear before. Not just kissing you, though, for the record, I really like that too, but. You. It’s you.” 

Marinette smiled, a happy flutter in her stomach making her wiggle a bit. “You should probably know I’ve had a massive crush on you for weeks,” she admitted shyly, still holding on to his hoodie. 

Luka’s grin got wider, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah? Weeks?”

Marinette pouted at him. “Don’t lie, you knew.” 

Luka chuckled and looked away. “Maybe. I just...I didn’t know what to do with it for a while. I didn’t want to lead you on if I wasn’t...but then I _was_ , and...” He looked back at her and grinned slowly. “Just weeks, huh?” 

Marinette shrugged, looking somewhere over his left shoulder. “Weeks. Months. Something like that.” She twirled her finger in the string of his hoodie, still not quite looking at him. “So I’m maybe not at all opposed to—presumption.” 

“That’s, um…” He was clearly trying to keep his smile under control, but it wasn’t working. The grin on his face was rapidly crossing into idiotic. Marinette giggled. “That’s really good to hear,” he continued, “because I’ve been getting really stupid over you really fast since we started working together, so...I’m kinda glad you got a head start. It’s actually really flattering coming from a girl like you.”

Marinette frowned slightly. “A girl like me?

Luka gave her an amused look. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, Marinette, but you’re kind of a catch.” 

Marinette blinked at him, startled, and Luka buried his face in her shoulder to muffle his laughter. “Oh my God, you really hadn’t noticed. You’re so damn cute.” 

“Cute!” Marinette huffed indignantly, but Luka lifted his face from her shoulder and nudged his nose against hers with a low chuckle that made her shiver.

“Adorable,” he told her, with so much affection that she couldn’t be offended. “Also really, seriously hot, which, I don’t even know how you manage to _do_ both of those at once, but—” He cleared his throat. “Can I—” 

“Yes,” Marinette giggled, tugging on his hoodie, and he bent, closing his eyes and kissing her with a slow heat that made her _weak_. She slid her hands up his firm chest and over his shoulders until they met behind his neck, savoring the pleased noise he made. Luka broke from her mouth and laid soft kisses along her jaw. 

“When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice so deep it was practically a growl, and Marinette shivered again. Luka cocked his head slightly. “You okay?” 

“I, um,” Marinette bit her lip. “I really like your voice,” she admitted in a rush. 

“Yeah?” That idiotic grin was growing on his face again and she was rapidly falling in love with it, with the way that he looked at her…

With him. She was falling pretty hard for him. And her only consolation was that he seemed to be tumbling head over heels along with her. The idea of loving someone who loved her back was...heady, to say the least. Not even the most euphoric moments of her ill-fated pining compared to this.

“Marinette?” he prompted, nudging his nose against hers. “I’m serious. I really want to see you again soon.” 

She kissed him again, just because he was so close. He chased her when she would have ended it, and she smiled against his lips before letting him coax her into a much longer, deeper kiss. 

“Wednesday?” she said, when he finally drew back. 

“Hm?” he blinked slightly glazed eyes and Marinette giggled. She straightened up off of the wall and leaned into him instead, fingers sliding up to play with the short hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Wednesday,” she repeated. “You can pick me up at seven. Bring your guitar, you promised to play for me again.” 

“I did,” he agreed, voice dipping low again as his hand slid around to the small of her back. “I can’t wait.” 

“Bring your A-game,” she told him. “I expect to be swept off my feet. But come hungry and plan somewhere light for dinner because my parents will freak when I tell them I have a boyfriend. There will definitely be appetizers. There might be cake. Maybe even a souffle. You tell Papa his rematch will have to wait though because I’m not sharing you this time.” 

The dopey grin returned. “I’m your boyfriend?” 

Marinette blinked, and then blushed hotly, which both made him grin wider and limited her ability to play it off, but she did her best. “You’re on trial. Think you can handle it?”

“Oh, definitely,” he chuckled, and that dopey grin turned into the pirate grin that always made her melt. “The question is, can you?” 

“Oh that’s how it is,” Marinette managed, raising her eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” he murmured, freeing one hand to slip it behind her neck and tilt her face up. “That's how it is. So you let me know when you’re convinced.” His lips descended on hers and his body pressed hers in the wall and by the time he was done kissing her Marinette was pretty thoroughly convinced.

Not that she planned to admit it anytime soon.

She was pretty sure she was going to like this game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big love and props to my husband Mr. Q (because lbr no guy wants to be called Mr. Quick) for this chapter; he's always supportive and always does his fair share of the parenting, but he really went above and beyond this weekend taking care of the kids and the house so I could lock myself in my room and break the block that's been plaguing me on this chapter. 
> 
> He's also the one who suggested modeling the tournament on the Starcraft II Battle.net leagues, and it was hugely helpful to have a real-world basis instead of having to make stuff up entirely, and he beta read sections for me (I play games, but not to the extent he does, and I can kick ass in an FPS but I'm useless with strategy games). 
> 
> Also many many thanks to MalcomReynolds for proofreading all 15k words of this monster chapter. I don't remember if I thanked semi-slaughtomatic for proofing the last chapter, so thank you too! And all of the lovely LBSC people who have held my hand through all of this mess. You guys are the best. 
> 
> I'm planning a fluffy little epilogue from Luka's POV to cap this off, and then we'll bid farewell to our happy little gamers for now. Thank you everyone for sticking with me!


	8. Epilogue

Luka sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed, as he played the song again, listening hard for that wrong note, that chord that was just a little bit off, or  _ whatever _ it was that he needed to fix. He shook his head slightly as he finished it, pressing his lips together. All the songs he’d written in the months since he’d gotten Claire back, some that he’d even been able to record in the studio thanks to his tournament winnings, and  _ this _ had to be the one that didn’t want to come together. He’d been working on it the longest and it still wasn’t right, but he couldn’t figure out why. 

“I like this lovesick tune so much better than the last one,” Juleka sighed from where she was fussing with her hair in her mirror. 

“Color me shocked,” Luka chuckled, slipping Claire off and setting her carefully in her stand. “You and Casey never did get along.” 

“Yeah, well,” Juleka muttered, not looking at him. “This is why.” 

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly. “I don’t follow.”

Juleka sighed and fidgeted, nervously rearranging the things on her table. “Because I know you didn’t feel like this with her. And this is what you deserve to feel. I felt like you were settling for less than you deserved and I didn’t want that for you.”

Luka paused, considering that. She was right, he knew. He’d been happy enough with Casey, but even the best parts of his relationship with Casey paled in comparison with the things he felt for Marinette. 

He wasn’t going to admit it to Juleka’s face though. “Since when did you become the love expert?” Luka asked instead, one corner of his mouth quirking up. 

Juleka tossed her hair over her shoulder and put her nose in the air. “We all have our talents.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just lying and I thought from the beginning that she was a high-maintenance, over-dramatic bitch who thought having a hot potential rock star boyfriend doting on her made her look good to her friends.” 

Luka barked a laugh and turned away to cover the sting he still felt at her words, pulling off his shirt and dropping it on his bed as he dug through his drawers for a clean one. The one he wasn’t wearing wasn’t  _ bad _ , but he’d been working on deck in the sun. If he hurried, he still had enough time to shower before he went to see Marinette. He grinned stupidly at the thought.

“Are you going to play it for her?” Juleka asked, leaning her chin on one hand and giving him a knowing look. 

“I will,” he said, still smiling. “When it’s right. It’s just...not there yet. I don’t know, something’s just not quite right, it just...needs something. I’ll figure it out though.” 

“You’re going to see her now, aren’t you?” Juleka snickered, and Luka rolled his eyes. 

“She asked me to come by,” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t blushing too much. 

“I’ll bet she did,” Juleka leered. “I bet she loves it when you come.” 

Luka rolled his eyes, snatching up the shirt he’d just changed out of and throwing it at her. “What are you, twelve?”

“Ew,” she complained, pulling off his shirt with two fingers and dropping it on the floor with an expression of disgust. 

“I’m going to shower,” he huffed on his way out the door, and shut the door quickly before Juleka could make any comment on his shower temperature or activities. He was starting to think the benefits of his own place would start to outweigh the money he was saving living at home. 

Half an hour later Luka stepped off the boat and headed toward the bakery with a grin on his face that he couldn’t have suppressed if he tried. 

Luka Couffaine had never been a big believer in fate. He didn’t believe in predetermined destinies or that he was bound to adhere to some kind of cosmic will.

He did believe he was one damn lucky bastard.

Even in the depths of frustration and betrayal and heartbreak, he’d known that. Maybe things weren’t going his way, but he was lucky in so many ways. Luka was lucky to have a family that loved and supported him. He was lucky to have grown out of his lanky teenage ugly duckling stage into a young man that many people found attractive. He was lucky to have a talent and the means and passion to pursue it. He was lucky to have connections and friends all over the local music scene who helped him out when he needed it.

He was lucky to have met Marinette.

Luka had spent a long time wondering after his plans to tour with the band went to hell in a handbasket. About whether his friends had ever really been friends. About how much of his relationship with Casey had been a lie. Had they all been users from the start, and he just hadn’t seen it? Or had their friendship been sincere, had they been content with the plan, until Xavier had come in and dazzled them with promises of something greater? Had Casey been satisfied in their relationship until Xavier was whispering in her ear about what she  _ deserved _ , how she  _ ought  _ to be treated, and who knew what else Luka hadn’t been around to hear?

It took a lot of thinking, a lot of sad and angry songs played on borrowed guitars that never sounded quite right, a lot of long talks with his mother, and even a few with his sister, to get him out of the spiral of self-recrimination and get his focus back on the future, on what he had to do next. 

Luka hadn’t been thinking about fate or destiny or karma or even luck when he looked into Ladybug’s stunning blue eyes for the first time and shook her small hand. Oh, he’d been impressed with her from the beginning. Her entire vibe was intense and alive and she was sassy and competitive without being cruel, and she was really, really cute. But romance couldn’t have been farther from his mind at that moment. 

Then she kept being thrown in his way, spirited and determined and clearly attracted to him. Marinette had a terrible poker face, and some part of him was delighted by her blushes and glances, but he squashed down the remnant of that ugly duckling teenage boy and kept his cool. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, he wasn’t interested in a fling, and he wasn’t about to lead her on just to flatter his vanity. She dealt with enough bullshit already, so he tried to show her he liked and respected her without letting it go any further. 

Luka kept his cool right up until she was standing there, tough as nails, cute as a button, trying and utterly failing to cover up what a blow it was to have to forfeit an entire event’s worth of matches, knowing it would more than likely knock them out of the running for the finals. Marinette’s frustration was obvious, as was her care for her friend and her determination not to blame him. 

In hindsight Luka wasn’t sure if Marinette was lucky, or  _ he  _ was, that he was there in that moment, ready to swoop in and save the day with his impulsive decision to stand in for Max. He’d had no idea what he was getting into. Playing with her was a blast, but he already knew she was smart and capable and powerful. He could handle Ladybug. 

He was completely unprepared for Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the beating heart and passionate spirit behind that tough gamer girl front she put on. 

Luka knew he was in trouble when he left the bakery with weak knees and a frantically beating heart. 

He knew he was in  _ deep _ trouble when she was sewing his hoodie on the Liberty and he began thoughtlessly composing a song to fit her. 

He knew he was doomed when she stood on the gangplank practically glowing with the sun behind her, looking at him with those big gorgeous eyes, her perfect lips curved into a sweet smile, and all the warmth of their easy companionship still fresh in his heart. 

Still, Luka had hesitated, willing to explore a tentative friendship with her but telling himself he wasn’t ready for anything more. He didn’t trust the attraction he felt towards her. Her crush on him might not even be that serious. He shouldn’t read too much into it. He would just go and compete and they would go back to being casual acquaintances and…

And then she’d taken that first step after him, reached out to him despite her obvious fear, almost  _ expectation _ that he would reject her, and opened the door to so much more. 

And now he had a beautiful, impossibly sweet, deliciously passionate, insanely brilliant girlfriend with a creative mind like nothing he’d ever seen, and he was the most lovestruck, useless sap on the planet. Marinette was as dramatic as Casey had ever been, but even her drama was comfortable, accommodating, nothing she ever expected him to solve or eliminate. He just stood back and sympathized as she ranted and fumed and had her dramatic movement and then she moved on to actually solving the problem. She was incredibly driven, incredibly kind, and no matter how much time they spent together, he never wished it was less. Maybe Marinette wasn’t a musician but she was an artist, and she always seemed to know how to give him the space to pursue his own passions without ever being out of reach and every time he was with her he felt like the luckiest dumbass on the planet, whether they were doing something together or just existing near each other as they did their own thing. 

Or making out. Oh Marinette was a fantastic kisser, sweet and attentive and exciting, tuned in to his every reaction. The height difference took some getting used to, but before long he found that he loved the way she fitted against him, the way he could curl around her, how small her hands were in his, how big his own looked on her hips or her back. She had learned impressively quickly how to tempt him into taking charge or reduce him to a pile of goo. And she made the  _ best _ sounds when he returned the favor.

_ Focus, Luka _ , he told himself as he opened the door to the bakery. He’d already been on the receiving end of one gentle, if mildly embarrassing, reminder from her mother that Marinette was eighteen and could make her own choices, but that she was still younger than him and he should be cautious about pushing her into things she might not be ready for. Sabine had been so mild about it that Luka couldn’t really feel insulted, though Marinette would probably be mortified if she knew her mother had said any such thing to him. 

Still. Better not to have those kinds of thoughts in his mind just now. Luka always came into the house through the bakery so that they knew he was there, mostly as a courtesy (and partly so they would know to knock before barging into Marinette’s room). He greeted Sabine and waved at Tom in the back, then went on up the stairs.

Luka knocked on the apartment door but went ahead and let himself in, not expecting her to hear him if she was up in her room. 

Marinette wasn’t in her room, as it turned out, but in the kitchen, singing to herself as she flitted back and forth in the small space. She waved at him and he grinned, setting his bag down on the couch and coming over to her. “You came,” she smiled, stretching up on her toes as he leaned down to meet her for a quick kiss.

“You asked me to,” he pointed out, choking back a laugh at the memory of Juleka’s teasing. 

Marinette ignored him, and Luka waited until she had set down whatever mysterious baking implements she was holding before catching her wrist and pulling her close. Marinette hummed happily as he leaned down to kiss her more fully, resting her forearms on his shoulders but keeping her flour-covered hands away from him. 

Not that he would have cared. He was more than happy to let her cover him in flour paste if it meant she was holding him. This was good enough for now, though, as long as her plush lips were under his. She’d clearly been nibbling on whatever she was making and she tasted  _ amazing _ . 

Marinette pulled back a little when he tried to press close to her. “Don’t, I’m dirty,” she whispered, and Luka couldn’t help laughing even as a twinge of heat shot through him. Marinette backed away from him and raised an eyebrow. 

“Sorry,” he grinned at her. “Juleka was picking on me before I left and it’s got my mind in the gutter.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly and then she blushed and pouted as she thought back to what she’d said. “Juleka should keep her mouth shut,” she grumbled, turning away from him to wash her hands. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Luka chuckled, putting his hands on her hips and stepping up so her back, which was mostly clean, was against his chest. “Why are you stress baking?” he asked, and leaned down to trail kisses along the side of her neck.

“What makes you think I’m stress b-baking?” she asked, tilting her head, breath hitching slightly as she reached blindly for a towel that was well out of her reach. 

“Mmm.” Luka reached out and snagged the towel off of the oven handle easily, putting it in her hand. Then he lifted his face and looked pointedly at the mess around them, and then back down at her. “When you’re baking from a project, you’re super organized and everything is set out carefully. You only make this kind of a mess—” He gestured down at the pile of baking dishes in the sink and then at the haphazard collection of ingredients crowded on the small counter. “—when you’re stress baking.” He returned to her neck, pressing a kiss to the hinge of her jaw. “So tell me why you’re stressed, and how I can help make it better.” 

Marinette huffed and shoved an elbow back into him. “It’s your fault to begin with,” she muttered, and Luka straightened immediately, frowning. 

“Me?” 

Marinette sighed. “Yeah, I—” She blew out a sigh and pulled away from him, turning around to face him. “I just, I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“That sounds ominous,” Luka said slowly, shifting back a little.

Marinette put her hands over her face and made a frustrated noise. “No, it’s not that bad, I’m—I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

Luka coughed to cover the laugh that he couldn’t quite keep in, and it was a supreme act of will to say nothing.

Marinette dropped her hands and glared at him, clearly knowing what he was thinking, and reached back to untie her apron with quick, decisive movements (which shouldn’t have affected him the way it did,  _ damnit Juleka _ ). Once it was off, she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the kitchen behind her. “Shouldn’t we clean up?” he asked, glancing back with concern. 

“We’ll do it later,” Marinette said. 

“But your baking—” 

“I just put the dough in the fridge to chill, it’s fine,” she said, pulling him up the stairs to her room. 

Luka couldn’t say he hated where this was going but he was pretty confused. He followed Marinette up into her room, where she let go of his hand and kept walking. Taking that as his cue to stay put, Luka shut the trapdoor gently behind them and nudged the lock into place with his foot. Just in case.

“Well. I, um...I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this,” Marinette was saying, bending over a large chest in the corner of her room to get at something behind it, and Luka had to look at the floor. “And I want you to know I had  _ nothing _ to do with it—well, I mean not  _ nothing _ , because I did tell Jagged something about what happened with, you know, before, with XY and how he stole your music, but I didn’t use any names and I kept everything really general, it’s just I was thinking about it while I was working on his fitting and I guess I was making a mad face and he wanted to know what I was thinking about and, well I know it’s not my story to tell so I—but Jagged is so—so—” she paused, making a grunt of effort as she hauled something up and over the chest. 

“Okay, I only followed about half of that,” Luka said as evenly as he could, glancing up from his determined study of the toes of his boots just as Marinette turned to him, both hands wrapped around the handle of a heavy black case that was...very familiar in shape.

Luka looked from the guitar case in her hands to her face, uncomprehending. Marinette shrugged, and bit her lip, shuffling across the floor towards him. “It’s for you. From Jagged. Take it,” she muttered, blushing. 

That stunned him speechless. Luka took the case from her on autopilot, crossing the room to lay it on the chaise and flip up the latches as Marinette began babbling again, insisting that she didn’t deserve the credit (or the blame) for this, and then he opened the case lid and felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

Marinette shoved a chair under him just in time as his knees went weak and he sat down, bringing one hand to cover his mouth as he stared down at the sleek professional quality acoustic guitar in front of him. It was black, with Jagged Stone’s logo emblazoned off-center on the lower half in purple.

“It’s from the new line he’s sponsoring,” Marinette said uncomfortably, shifting her feet. “Not released yet,” she added quickly, before he could gather his wits enough to question her. “They sent it to him to demo and approve, and well...once he played it and decided it was good enough he gave it to me, to give to you. He said a pro should have both kinds. Which is weird, really, because I’ve never seen him play anything but an electric, but...” She cringed as Luka’s fingers hovered over the unmistakable signature scrawled up one side in some kind of glitter ink. “He insisted on signing it. I hope that’s okay.” She reached forward and plucked a note tucked into a pocket of the case and handed it to him.

Luka took it absently, still staring. He touched the guitar lightly, taking in the silky texture of the finish and the quality of the wood, the elegant shape, the gleaming hardware. It was beautiful. He loved Claire, he really did, but sometimes you needed a different sound for different songs— 

His brain screeched to a halt. A different sound.  _ A different sound _ .

Marinette nudged him, startling him out of his thoughts. He unfolded the note. 

_ Hey kid,  _ he read,  _ I heard your story. Wanna be’s always hate the real deal, and you’re it. I wouldn’t blame you if you want to keep things to yourself for a while, but I’d love to hear what those songs were meant to sound like before that baby-faced nobody murdered them. If you’ve got more to share, Marinette’s got my number.  _

_ Rock ‘n roll! _

_ Jagged Stone _

_ P.S. Fuck with my girl and I’ll stick this guitar where the sun don’t shine, and that’s just for starters.  _

He looked up at Marinette, and she fidgeted. “You don’t have to take it,” she said weakly. 

There were about a thousand things he could have said at that moment, but what came out was, “Is this why you asked me not to bring Claire?”

Marinette shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I didn’t know if she was the jealous type.”

Luka chuckled. Marinette always seemed fondly exasperated with his tendency to anthropomorphize his instruments, skeptical but indulgent, willing to play along without actually trying to compete with an inanimate object (one of Casey’s more annoying habits). 

“So...is it okay? You’re not...mad?” she asked, and Luka laughed weakly.

“I’m not mad,” he said, leaning back and reaching for her. She let him pull her over and sit her on his knee. “It’s amazing, Marinette, really.” He squeezed her, and trying hard not to sound like a total fanboy, asked, “Jagged really played it himself?”

“He did,” Marinette confirmed. “For over an hour. First time I’ve ever heard him play an acoustic, actually.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda sorry I missed that,” he said, leaning into her as she put her arms around him. “Jagged Stone.” He looked at the paper in his hand and shook his head slightly. “He wants to hear my music? Wow, Marinette, this is just...I’m speechless.”

“I told you, I didn’t do anything,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his neck. “I shouldn’t even have said anything to him without your permission, I just...I was distracted fitting the jacket, and I didn’t even realize I’d said it until he screamed ‘I knew that little shit didn’t have that kind of talent!’ and I nearly jumped out of my skin.” 

Luka laughed and kissed her hair, and he felt her lips curve against his skin. “Did he really say that?” 

“Mmhm,” she said, responding to his nudges against her temple by lifting her face so he could kiss her. He took his time about it, savoring her soft lips and the smooth, soft skin under his thumb as he stroked her cheek. Marinette’s hands slipped under his hoodie and he gladly shifted so she could push it down his arms and off, feeling more than a little warm as it was. His hand went to her waist instead of her face, slipping under her shirt to settle against her abs where he could feel the rippling muscle beneath the slight softness as she moved. He didn’t even know that was a thing for him until he met Marinette and now he couldn’t get enough of it. It was just more luck for him that she liked his rough hands against her skin. Her hands slid up and down his chest and over his shoulders and arms and he pressed into her touch with a little moan.

Luka loved that she understood that about him, how much he craved the connection of touch. Even before they were together, it had been a struggle to keep his hands to himself as they grew closer. The night of the party, up on the roof, he’d been so lost in a confusing whirl of emotion that he nearly felt sick, and her small, strong arms around him had grounded him, soothed him, without him even having to ask. She’d been amazing that night, beautiful and fun and temptation itself as they danced, and fire and fury as she defended him and Juleka both, and gentle and comforting when he needed her. 

Somewhere in that confusing ball of emotion it had suddenly dawned on him, with the clarity and sharpness of cut glass, that he would be an  _ idiot _ to let her go, if she still wanted him. He was so lucky that she’d waited for him, that she’d had the patience to let him go and settle things with Casey, that she’d decided he was worth steeling her courage and facing up to the memory of whatever idiot had hurt her in the past. It was hard, waiting that last week, unsure and nervous but choosing to trust her, and choosing to trust his own instincts again—instincts that were telling him  _ whatever you do, don’t let this one go _ . But she’d waited on him for far longer, so he could hardly refuse to wait for her. And it was... _ so  _ worth it.

He was so, so lucky. 

“So, are you going to try it out?” Marinette asked, bringing him back to the moment. Her hands were still flexing against him and she was kiss-bruised and ruffled and breathless and God he had never been  _ less _ interested in a new guitar, he was so stupid for her, he half-expected violins and rose petals and fucking rainbows and unicorns every time they were together. She blinked slowly, smile shifting into a smirk, and Luka swallowed hard. 

Focus.

“Only if you get off my lap,” he told her, voice a little rougher than he intended. He cleared his throat as Marinette giggled and slid off his knee. 

“What are you going to call this one?” Marinette asked, amusement plain in her face.

“I don’t know,” Luka said, lifting the guitar out of the case. He noticed with amusement the strap, and glanced knowingly up at Marinette. She blushed and shrugged, looking away.

“It had that skinny kind you don’t like,” she mumbled, “So I made a new one.” 

“I love it,” Luka grinned, unreasonably pleased by her fancy signature in gold embroidery on the inside of the strap. It took him a moment to get his stupid grin under control and slip the strap over his shoulder. 

He ran long fingers over the neck and body lightly. “I have to get to know them before I can name them,” he continued. Luka set his fingers and then strummed slowly down the strings, but he winced at the sound. He worked on the tuning, noting the silky feel of the wood under his hands, the way he hardly had to adjust his hands at all, like the guitar had been made for him. When the strings were in tune he strummed slowly down them again, and this time the sound was…

His pulse increased, and he glanced up at Marinette. “I’ve been working on something,” he said. “I wanted you to hear it, but it wasn’t quite right. I think I’d like to try it now, if that’s okay.” 

“Oh,” Marinette blinked, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Of course.”

Luka moved the guitar case and slid onto the chaise, patting the spot next to him. Marinette sat down, fidgeting with her fingers and watching him with gratifying anticipation. It always gave him a thrill, to see how eager she was to hear him play.

Luka set his fingers on the fretboard again, took a settling breath, and played the song he’d been crafting and refining in his mind since the day she came to practice at the boat. 

Marinette gasped quietly, and laid her hand over her heart, closing her eyes. Luka let his own lids fall as he played, though the instrument wasn’t quite familiar enough yet for him to close them all the way. 

He knew as soon as he began that he wasn’t wrong, that this was what he’d been missing and trying to find all this time. The melody was just right, but the sound had been off. Ladybug might be the jangling twang and sassy attitude of the electric, flashy and exciting, but Marinette...Marinette was the mellow, sweet sound of the acoustic, authentic and sincere. Simple, but quality, resonating with craftsmanship and passion and warmth. He took a shaky breath as he listened to the last chord resonate and fade away, and then lifted his eyes to hers. 

She swallowed at the look he was giving her, and then whispered, “How was it?” 

“Perfect,” he breathed, gazing at her with all the wonder and love she inspired in him. “Absolutely perfect.” 

“Great,” she said breathlessly. “Now put it down.” 

Luka did, setting it carefully in its case, and before he’d even straightened up all the way Marinette was crawling onto him. She straddled his lap and took his face in her hands, as she kissed him hard, drawing an answering passion from him. Luka wrapped his arms around her, drawing her as close as he could get her, overwhelmed and overflowing with feelings he couldn’t contain or ignore. 

He wanted to be sure she understood, though. He’d been told before that some things had to be said out loud, and Luka didn’t want to mess this up. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, as soon as he had space to, but Marinette was kissing him again before he could get any more out. She made an inquisitive noise, moving her kisses to his jaw so he could speak, but Luka pulled back gently, just enough to be able to look her in the eye—in those beautiful, breathtaking eyes, and he had to swallow hard before he could speak. “I love you,” he breathed, and Marinette’s smile shone like the sun.

“I know, silly,” she said, rubbing her nose along his, and then she nodded at the guitar. “I heard you the first time.”

He felt the slow, stupid grin spreading across his face. 

It made Marinette blush from her collar to her hairline, and she kissed him again fiercely. “I can’t say it as beautifully as you did,” she whispered against his lips, “But I love you too.” Then she yelped as Luka moved suddenly, dumping her off his lap back onto the chaise. Marinette moved back against the arm, shifting to accommodate him automatically as he crawled over her; by now they had plenty of practice arranging themselves in the small space.

“Is this all right?” Luka asked, even as she was running her hands appreciatively over his arms braced on either side of her.

“It’s perfect,” she sighed, leaning up to meet him as he kissed her, intent on showing her just how lucky he felt to know her, to hold her, to love her.

It was totally worth the lecture they got from Tom for leaving a mess in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. And we're done! And this little fic idea that was supposed to be a quick little one shot is now my longest work by a good margin. 
> 
> I owe big thanks to a lot of people for helping me get through this one and I'm scared to list everybody lest I forget someone, but I have appreciated everybody's support, including all of you who read and commented and left me kudos or encouraging DMs. Special credit goes to MalcolmReynolds for submitting the initial two prompts that inspired this fic! I am never listening to you again lol. 
> 
> Thanks for taking this journey along with me and for being patient with me towards the end. I love the characters and I love coming up with scenarios for them but it really a lonely endeavor without people to share it with, but I appreciate each and every one of you who read and enjoyed it.


	9. Bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on tumblr, none of this is going to be new for you, so sorry to have gotten your hopes up! 
> 
> I had a bunch of thoughts/ideas kicking around my head for Killer Combo that didn’t make it into the fic or the epilogue. I shared them on tumblr a while ago but never posted them here, so I'm rectifying that now! 
> 
> I also want to share with you some [wonderful art](https://quickspinner.tumblr.com/tagged/killer%20combo%20art) inspired by this story! Which! I can't even believe! I'm so excited! LOOK AT THAT! 
> 
> I want to take a moment and tell you all I am so incredibly floored and flattered by how much positive feedback I've gotten on this story. There just aren't any words for how that makes me feel and I'm so, so grateful. 
> 
> So, apologies for sitting on this little bit so long, and I hope some of these give you a smile. Thank you so much for all your support!

  * I really wanted Ivan to show up again. He was supposed to meet Mylene at the championship and there would have been cuteness.
  * As champions and runner-up, Max, Marinette, and Luka qualified to go to the world championship. They all got destroyed, but Marinette was the only one who minded. Luka and Max knew they weren’t good enough to compete internationally. Marinette knew it too, but she still hates losing. Regardless, they had a fantastic time in whatever city was hosting and Marinette and Luka had at least one very romantic date in a picturesque spot. 
  * People do talk about Ladybug and Viperion dating after the championship, and of course some people have nasty things to say about why Viperion “decided” to lose the championship. Marinette and Luka ignore them, doing nothing to counter the rumor except being as adorably and obviously in love as possible. 
  * Marinette and Max give Luka a small cut of their winnings from the team championship in thanks for his contribution. Luka tries to argue with them, and keeps trying to sneak the envelope with the money back into Marinette’s things. It becomes a bit of a game between them until Marinette loses patience and, instead of sneaking it back to him, this time she spends it on some piece of equipment he’s been drooling over. She gives it to him for his birthday, purposely making a big deal about it in front of everybody so he can’t refuse it.
  * Luka starts collecting anything he finds with a ladybug print, and Marinette is both embarrassed and secretly pleased every time she finds something new in his room or on his person. 
  * Marinette still doesn’t get as much press as she deserves, but she has a cult following especially among younger aspiring gamer girls. They show up to her events wearing makeup spots, and Marinette eventually starts selling a Team Lucky Charm-themed accessory line from her website. Luka promptly becomes a regular customer, much to her exasperation (she’s secretly tickled).
  * Marinette completely loses it when Luka shows up one day with one of the small Ladybug logo patches from her shop sewn (badly) on the front of his Viperion hoodie. Luka just grins the whole time she’s yelling at him. Eventually, she makes a Viperion patch to wear on her own hoodie (and she steals his hoodie to stitch the patch on more neatly). Max thinks they’re both hilarious.
  * Luka eventually lets Marinette give Jagged demos he’s recorded of some of his new songs, on the condition that no one else hears or handles them. He’s completely blown away when she calls him only for Jagged to snatch the phone out of her hand and demand to meet him. Jagged buys two of his songs, with proper contracts, payment, and credit. Being credited as a songwriter on Jagged’s next album opens a lot of doors. 
  * Luka’s first album includes an acoustic cover of Hero/Heroine (the song he sang on stage in chapter 6) and a marriage proposal as part of the dedication printed in the album sleeve.




End file.
